See It My Way
by Soulless Warlock
Summary: Canon HarmonVerse! My OC, Jack Harmon, begins season one in the ill-fated production of Cabaret until a tiny diva opens his eyes to the world of Glee.
1. The Rhodes Not Taken

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

**0000000000**

There were days that Jack Harmon felt that it would be a bad idea to get out of bed. Then it would dawn on him that he is Jack Harmon and any day is made better by the sheer fact he was gracing the outside world with his presence.

But, this was one of those days where not even his ethereal presence would bring a shine to a terrible situation. What could lead someone with sort of mindset to believe all hope was lost? Well, that answer is quite simple and that revolves around two people: Sandy Ryerson and Sue Sylvester. Two people who had no idea what it meant to create a piece of art that was a Kander and Ebb musical. Instead, they were using for their own means.

Jack wasn't positively sure what Sylvester's intentions were, but he knew that Ryerson's goal was to create some sort of monument to his vanity. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to understand that he was directing a show with one of the vainest (because he's honest) men on the planet.

Of course, it's only vanity if you create an image that masks your deep-seated insecurities. For Jack, those sorts of things never existed, but he uses the term 'vanity' merely keep from confusing the peons of the world. It was sort of a shield because, if the peons did not appreciate the image that an actor or sing creates; they would never buy tickets for their concerts or movies.

Still, why was he even performing in a show that was being systematically chopped to pieces by an effeminate, extremely creepy teacher? Well, part of it was the result of his adventurous spirit. He had never turned away from a challenge. But, he was beginning to think this was the first mistake he'd ever made in his life. He could only imagine the aftershock should this become common knowledge.

However, there were some benefits to working inside the belly of beast. It was during the audition periods for the show that Jack had found a kindred spirit Lima, a worthless cow-town overpopulated by the American versions of the Aboriginal people.

**0000000000**

_It had been more than two weeks since the school's small theater community had learned that the spring musical would be the classic, Cabaret. Jack hadn't expected anyone other than himself to be any good. This was a high school production, not a community theatre one, so he had packed up his ear plugs and was getting ready to put them in when a brunette girl stepped onto the stage, a look of supreme confidence in her eyes. _

_For some reason, one that Jack hadn't been able to understand at the time, he placed his ear plugs in his pocket. _

**"My name is Rachel Berry," **_introduced the girl, _**"and I am auditioning for the role of Sally Bowles."**

_He had heard about Miss Berry, they even shared a dance class their freshmen, before he had moved on to the more advanced studies. Maybe the familiarity was keeping him from putting in the ear plugs, he'd have to wait and see. _

**"For my audition song, I will be singing, 'Taking Chances' by Celine Dion,"** _Rachel explained further._

**'Not something I would pick,'** _Jack thought. _**'But, it could work.'**

**_"Don't know much about your life," _**_Rachel began to sing, _**_"don't know much about your world, but don't want to be alone tonight on this planet we call Earth."_**

_Jack cocked his head to the side, she was good…really good. He sat up, watching this tiny girl with the powerful voice continue to sing. _

**_"You don't know about my past and I don't have a future figured out," _**_she confessed. _**_"And maybe this is going too fast and maybe it's not meant to last. But, what do you say to taking chances? What do you say to jumping off the edge? Never knowing if there's solid ground below, or a hand to hold, or hell to pay. What do you say?"_**

_Jack listened to her sing. It was the greatest thing he had heard since he had purchased the cast album to _**Spring Awakenings**_**. **Could this be why he was hanging around this show? It certainly wasn't to put up with Ryerson, who he was seriously contemplating in turning into one of the boy sopranos__he seemed so intent on molesting._

**_"Don't know much about your life," _**_Rachel concluded, _**_"don't know much about your world."_**

_And, for the first time since this whole thing started, and possibly for the last so long as he was involved, Jack Harmon smiled. _

**"Finally,"** _he remembered shouting, _**"someone else with talent!"**

**0000000000**

From that moment on, Jack kept to the shadows, waiting for the moment where he would have Rachel alone and they could talk, two talents in a sea of mediocrity.

This had proved easier than Jack had initially anticipated, as Ryerson seemed to monopolize her by tossing inhuman levels of criticism at her performance. He, himself, couldn't find any holes in the performance. Still, Ryerson seemed obsessed with breaking her spirit for his own twisted pleasure. She was one more bad day away from sashaying out of the door and Jack, himself, wasn't that far behind.

It was bad enough Ryerson planned to write himself into the show as Cleopatra.

'Which is odd,' Jack mused, shuddering at the thought, 'strangely whimsical, but odd.'

Still, while Ryerson's criticism of perfect, which, surprisingly, included himself, Jack had not been allowed to touch the piano.

"The 'talent'," he would say mockingly, "shouldn't touch the piano."

'And teachers aren't supposed to give their students handjobs. So, we're all breaking the rules,' but Jack had wanted to say.

Unfortunately, Ryerson started yelling at some inconsequential member of the chorus before he had a chance to say it. But, at the moment, Ryerson was not in the room, so Jack could enjoy himself.

Jack cleared his throat as he began to play the piano.

_"Everywhere I go, I'm followed by a lot of people,"_ he sang, _"such a lot of people, it's almost a parade. And if you see all the people, they're everyone I ever was and everyone I ever will be, all the lives of me…"_

Jack, while playing this song, he was working on a volume of empty sheet music. The first song in what he would, someday, call his magnum opus.

_"__And if I make you feel good, after knowing all you know is really only all that you see…All the lives of me."_

As he played the final notes, Jack felt that someone was watching him. He turned around and there was Rachel Berry standing in front of him.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"I thought you were Ryerson," he said to her, sitting up from the piano stool. "If I have to hear one more rant about how the talent isn't supposed to touch the piano, he'll be joining the ranks of the Castrati."

She gave him a strange look. He sighed at her; of course the gold was false.

"They were a group from the 1600s, boy sopranos that, to preserve their high voices, were…"

"I know what they are," she cut him off. "I'm just stunned that someone my age knows about them."

"As am I," Jack said, a flicker of admiration in his tone. "To be honest, I didn't think I would see you again. Considering the hell Ryerson put you through I half expected that he was going to replace you with that one girl with the lazy eye."

"Which girl with the lazy eye?" Rachel asked, she would get to the other topic later. She did not remember the girl with the lazy eye.

"I think her name is Yuki," he provided.

"**He** doesn't have a lazy eye, he's Asian," she blanched, as if stunned at what she had just heard.

Jack stared at Rachel quizzically.

"He can't be Asian, he's terrible at math," argued Jack, "and no one is that pretty and a boy. Expect Leo DiCaprio in the 90s. But, it's irrelevant; you're here so I'll be able to understand Sally for one more day, at least."

This seemed to silence Rachel for the moment, allowing Jack to return to his work. He looked up at Rachel occasionally, pondering if she knew he intentionally insulted Yuki.

"Why did you think I quit?" her question cut through the silence.

Jack nodded and turned back to the small girl.

"Because, one, if Fred Ebb saw what Ryerson is doing to his show, he would roll out of his grave, die again, and do a 360 before planting the casket back in the grave," he began to play the top half of the song. "Two, he's been on your ass since you started."

Jack turned back to the piano, pushing the key cover up again. He seemed distracted by the instrument; his demeanor wordlessly saying that he had intentionally insulted Yuki for the express reason of it would give him silence.

"Why did you think I quit?" Rachel finally asked.

"Because, one, if Fred Ebb saw what Ryerson is doing to his show, he would roll out of his grave, die again, and do a 360 before planting the casket back in the grave," Jack said, as he began to play an unfamiliar composition. "Two, he's been on your ass since you started."

"Some directors are difficult," Rachel argued. "Like Jerome Robbins. He was notorious for being difficult."

Jack snorted at this comment. "But, he was a genius. When you're a genius you're allowed to be as annoying as humanly possible. Actually, you be as annoying as divinely possible and get away with it. Ryerson is not that genius," Jack concluded, his attention still on the composition on the piano.

Jack studied Rachel, he knew that she knew that we was right, Ryerson was ruining the production and she was powerless to stop it. This was one of those times where she wished that she could quit and return to glee. But, that wasn't an option; there was no glee club to fall back on.

"I don't recognize that song," she blurted out, the music had been helpful in strengthening her resolve to sticking it out in the hell Ryerson called art. "Is it a new piece or did you write it?"

"I wrote it," Jack's focus was on the song.

"It's very nice," Rachel said honestly.

Jack nodded. "I know that it's nice. But, it'll be better once I find the right notes and lyrics for it."

"Can I see it?"

This is what got Jack's attention off of the music. He seemed surprised, almost paranoid of handing it over to anyone. He reached for the sheet music.

"I normally don't do this; I lose more music that way. Though, you're not the type that would ruin someone's work."

He handed Rachel the papers. She examined them, Jack studying her as she did. Her facial expression told him everything he needed to know. She thought it was good, but not perfect. Jack was a perfectionist, until the day came that he viewed the song as perfect or a theatrical producer said the same, it would never be ready for public consumption. Still, to have a talent of equal measure seem to enjoy certainly stroked his ego.

"Is it just one song, or is it something else entirely?"

"It's a song for a musical that I've been working on for the last couple of years."

This caught Rachel's attention. "A musical?" she inquired, taking the free chair by the piano. "About what?"

"Well," Jack began, "I've had this dream for a long time that if _Evil Dead_ deserves a musical so do all the other B-horror movies," he explained. "Of course, I've considered the fact that any idea I present to the American Theatre Wing would be rejected purely on the basis that it is too good for the peons of the world, it may never be produced."

He took a breath.

"Though, when I finally take over the world it will be one of the first things I mount for my entertainment. May I have it back?"

Rachel handed Jack his music, which he carefully brushed, as if to remove any existing creases. He placed the music in his folder.

"I don't want blood soiling my hands," he said. "Ryerson will be here any minute and I'm in no mood to listen to him squawk."

Jack slowly closed his eyes, getting one last look at Rachel, who now seemed deep in thought. He wasn't sure what she was planning, but the very idea that someone was plotting to get rid of Ryerson once and for all. It allowed him to relax. He would have to tell Dr. Latham about this little development in their next session.

**0000000000**

He stepped out of the dance room, his legs barely able to cover point A and Point B as he walked passed Sue Sylvester's office. The light was still on and she was, no doubt, boiling a bunny or sacrificing a small dog to the cheerleading demons for her next trophy. Did this woman ever go home? Or did she live under the school in a Bat-cave or something?

Jack leaned toward the window, ducking low to make sure she could see him. Sue Sylvester was, indeed, in her office, hurtling darts at the door. Jack craned his head around, spotting the dartboard, which was actually a blown up picture of the Spanish teacher, Will Schuester, and what looked like members of the glee club. She seemed to be chanting in tongues, but he could only make out about four of the words.

"Must destroy glee club! Must destroy glee club!"

Jack had only seen the glee club perform once. And he had not been impressed by their dance choreography or their choice of song. So, it seemed beyond his ken as to why a multi-timed nationally ranked champion like Sue Sylvester would care if the glee club existed. It's not like they were topping the Cheerios.

Jack slipped further down the wall, putting some serious on the subject. Yes, the glee club did suck, but still, it had potential. As always, Jack's curious nature got the best of him and he had gone onto the internet and checked out McKinley's glee club in the 1990s. The group had been the top of the social pyramid and they had taken Nationals. It helped that one of the people in the group looked like Neil Patrick Harris and had his amazing talent as well.

Still, if the current club got to be as good as that, it would put Sylvester on the share the spotlight on the attention train. That was something she could not, and from the looks of things, would not tolerate.

Jack sat there, thinking, recalling the numerous times where he tried to topple the Cheerios' carefully constructed pyramids (though the pun did not escape him and he shuddered). He had yet to succeeded, but that hadn't deterred him, Cabaret was meant to be his chance to topple the Cheerios, but he was beginning to think there was another option. Maybe there was something that could help him in his quest to toppling those short-skirted, back-flipping credits to their gender.

Maybe, just maybe.

**0000000000**

Only seconds prior, Rachel had told Ryerson where to go and quit the show.

"Understudy!" the obnoxious closet case screamed.

"Excuse me, Mr. Ryerson," Jack interjected. This was the time. "I have a few things I'd like to say to you."

"What is now, Harmon? We have no star. If you could call her a star," he snorted.

"I would," he said bluntly. "But not for here."

"Was that what you had to say?"

"Nope. I actually wanted to tell you something that's been a long time coming."

Jack waltzed right to Ryerson, a smile forming on him lips.

"You've studied German, right?" Jack asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"And you know what dummkopf means, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you can kiss mine, I quit."

Jack stamped out of the room, his strut back in play and the spring back in my step.

"Good luck having a show without talent," he cautioned the director, loose application, of course, leaving the room.

**0000000000**

That night, Jack entered the auditorium. One of his sources in the jazz band had told him that the glee club was holding its Invitational performance on this night. He wasn't sure what to expect.

What he got was a powerhouse performance from a tiny blonde woman with a big-ass voice. He might have to question to where they got her. She seemed a little old to be in high school. Hell, she looked old enough to be his mother.

She seemed to give them the boot in the ass they needed. Shame Rachel couldn't have been a part of that considering she's one of the founding members.

**0000000000**

Of course, for those of you familiar with the history of New Directions, you know that Rachel returned and, with the help of Finn, led the glee in a show-stopping performance of Queen's Somebody to Love. Which, once upon a time, Jack would've considered blasphemy. But, now, now it gave him hope that this motley crew would be worth his time and his talent.

**0000000000**

After the show, Rachel exited the auditorium.

"Pretty good up there," Rachel heard a voice sneaking up behind.

"Jack?" she said, surprised, but mostly happy that he had seen the performance. "What are you doing here?"

"Considering that you stormed out of rehearsal this evening I was wondering what the fuss was about," he said. "Plus, I wanted to see if what Coach Sylvester was ranting to Ryerson about was true."

"And did you find out?"

"Oh, it is," he replied, staying cloaked in the shadows of the empty school. "So much so, I told Ryerson to kiss my dummkopf and I quit the show."

"You quit?" Rachel was legitimately stunned. The Emcee was a role written for this actor and he quit.

"Don't sound so surprised," he said. "Actors leave their star-making roles all the time for a juicer one."

Rachel examined his face, which was half-covered by the darkness. "And what role is that?"

"As a member of glee," Rachel almost choked on the air when he said those words. "I audition tomorrow and I will get in."

He turned into the darkness.

"Until them, Fraulein Berry," he said, craning his head out of the darkness to reveal his face. "Auf wiedersehen! A bientot! Good night…"

"And good night to you, Herr Harmon," she said back. "I am overwhelmed."

**0000000000**

**A/N: And that was the first chapter of See It My Way. I'd love to hear what you guys think of it. Feel free to leave your opinions, critiques, and thoughts when you've finished reading. **

**Until next time, good morning, good afternoon, good night, and good luck to all the people of the world. **


	2. Vitamin D

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

**0000000000**

Needless to say, Jack's audition to New Directions had gone off without a hitch. Still, there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind. The spot strictly reserved for crazy thoughts that the humanoids would call inadequacy. Anyway, that spot in his brain was nagging at him for the last week. What if he didn't get into the glee club?

Now, Jack knew for a fact Mr. Schuester did not turn a single soul away. Granted, that's a terrible message to give to the kids in this school, but that's neither here nor there at the moment.

Though, he couldn't remember the names of many members of the club, he knew that they knew him. That could pose a small problem in his induction into the group. He needed a ringer, someone other than Rachel to plead his case. But, who? Who didn't know him by reputation? Who could he manipulate for his own gain? And who the hell is this new broad in the nurse's office?

Jack looked into the office, studying the young woman sitting in the chair. She was blonde, not entirely unattractive, and seemed to be nervous about something. Distracted would be another choice word to describe her. As if she was waiting for the ball to drop on something. He would've probed further if he, you know, cared.

"You must be Nurse Beatrice's replacement," he said, knocking gently on the door.

The blonde's head shot up, her eyes wide in surprise.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Jack said, stepping into the room. "I was just wondering if you were the new nurse."

"Yes, yes, I am," she said, in a faux-cheerfulness that certainly told Jack there was more to this nurse than first met the eye. "I'm Terri Schuester. But, you can call Nurse Schue. My husband's Will Schuester. Can I help you with anything? You seem alright."

"My health is at a peak this season," Jack replied. "So, I'm fine. I was checking in. I do that with new staff members. Consider me your unofficial welcoming committee."

"That's very sweet of you," she said. "Thank you."

"You're more than welcome," Jack said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be off to class."

Jack turned to leave when a glimmer of recognition flashed across his bright blue eyes.

"I can't shake the feeling I've seen you before," he said. "Do you have a twin sister that works at Sheets N' Things?"

"No, no twin," Terri said. "I'm the assistant manager at Sheets N' Things."

Jack bit his lower lip, a laugh creeping into his throat.

"And now, you're the school nurse?" he pondered aloud.

Terri simply nodded. With that, Jack turned on his heel and left the room. Now, Terri was either ignorant of the fact this student was laughing at the situation he had stumbled upon or she simply chose to ignore.

All the same, she still shouted, "It was nice meeting you!"

Jack slinked across the hallway, quickly pulling out his cell phone. Unlike most of his contemporaries, Jack didn't see the point of being able to able to fire nuclear warheads with your cell phone when a remote control would suffice. Talking, texting, and the internet were the only things he needed.

He typed in a message to one of his sources in one of the schools many epicenters of gossip. He would know why Terri Schuester was in the school before the day was out. That left only one task at hand: find himself a ringer and he would be in the glee club faster than Ella Fitzgerald could shatter glass.

Jack quickly switched gears; he needed to find himself a ringer if he wanted to get into the glee club.

**000000000**

No sooner had he thought did he round a corner and saw a sight that he left him both disgusted and slightly intrigued on how he could manipulate the situation for his own benefit: The Cheerio known as Shore Leave was kissing her latest conquest. Jack recognized him as Stinky, the new kid who ran afoul with Sue Sylvester on his first day.

Though, to be honest, Jack didn't understand the nickname, the kid honestly looked more like a deer caught in the headlights. Still, he was also in glee club…he may have finally found his ringer.

Jack waited for Shore Leave to be out of the picture when he made his move.

"You've soiled my locker," he called out, his smooth voice catching the student's attention. "Now, if this was any other school, I would call for a janitor. But, this isn't any other school. Our guidance counselor is far more in-tune with the cleaner side of life."

"Who are you?" the student asked, quickly pulling away from said locker.

"Who am I?" Jack asked. "Who are you?"

"Mi..."

"Wait," he pointed. "I know who you are." he then sniffed the air around them, "_Stinky_? Hmmm... I thought I would be impressed. Or, at the very least... intrigued. Alas, I am not. Very much underwhelmed. Meeting you for the first time has been a very underwhelming experience."

Jack could tell he made this kid nervous. He could smell it, and he loved that scent.

"But, fear not, Lamb-Chop!" he smiled. "Today is your lucky day. I have come to your aid."

Mitchell stared at him, as if stuck to find the right words.

"Jack Harmon," he introduced himself, "I'd shake your hand, but it was just touching a Cheerio. And I am very much not a fan. Besides, your hand…Ew…who knows?"

"Is this going anywhere?" Mitchell asked. "Because I actually have to go somewhere."

Jack gestured for Mitchell to lead the way, and followed after the taller student.

"I am assuming by the drastically recent defiling of my locker that you and Shore Leave are back together?"

"I don't know," Mitchell replied. "Wait... _Shore Leave_?"

"You want her," Jack pressed dramatically. "You need her. Blah-blah-blah, it's all so boring. But! I can make it official."

"Official?" Mitchell asked. "It's hopeless. She doesn't actually like me. I'm not sure if I even like her."

They took a corner and finally arrived at Mitchell's locker.

"Hence, my proclaiming with the upmost confidence that I can make it official," Jack proclaimed

Mitchell was silent. Did this kid have some kind of hearing problem or was he just a slightly attractive double for Corky Thatcher?

"I can make her like you," Jack said simply. He hated when people needed things spelled out for them.

Mitchell shut his lock and leaned back against it. "You can make her like me?"

"Mm-hm," Jack nodded. It's a pretty simple task.

Now came the moment of truth, Mitchell seemed to be thinking. Either that or he was on another damn planet where Jack was pretty sure the non-Hepatitis afflicted Sue Sylvester actually lived.

"Hello!" Jack called out, snapping his fingers. "Is the transmission clear?"

"Why would you help me?"

"I auditioned for the glee club," Jack explained. "You would have known that, but you were absent yesterday."

"Talking to Ms. Pillsbury, actually," informed Mitchell.

"Regardless," Jack shook his head. "You were not there."

"Mr. Schuester doesn't reject anyone," Mitchell said. "Everyone who auditions gets to join. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Worrying about something and my concerns joining the club are two very different things. I have no doubt in my mind that I would be an extremely valuable asset. However, that said, I have my _concerns_. Such as, I am _concerned _that there is going to be a vote _concerning_ my membership."

"Dude, he doesn't reject anyone." Mitchell repeated. "The Headless Horseman could audition and he'd get in. No worries."

"Again," Jack stated. "I am not worried."

"You want me to make sure that you get in without any hitches?"

'_At last,'_ a voice in the back of Jack's head that sounded like Rachel Berry sang.

Jack let out an over-exaggerated sigh of relief.

"Oh man, thank goodness," he shouted dramatically. "For a second there, I was starting to think I may have been talking to a robot. Now, let's start off with a few quick tips for tonight. Ready, Bambi?"

The perfect nickname for this kid.

"Bambi?" the newly named glee kid asked.

"You're very Deer in the Headlights."

**0000000000**

Needless to say, Jack was not sure of his _Pygmalion_ attempts to turn Mitchell into the type of charmer that could win over Shore Leave would actually work. But, if it did, he would score a spot in the glee club. If it didn't, well, he would still get in the glee club, it would just take a little more effort on his part.

**0000000000**

The following day, Jack slinked across the halls toward the music room. He placed his ear against the door. All he could hear was the reasons for not letting him into the group, something to do with being "kind of racist", "Jack-ass", could they be less creative, "the Devil" and/or "the Anti-Christ". Obviously, they knew nothing of true talent.

"And he's just what we need to take us over the top," he knew he could always count on Rachel.

He hadn't known her long, but she had been the second person he had learned to trust implicitly. But, where was Bambi? The silence from his own little Eliza Doolittle could've told him to that the mission was a failure. Though, that was probably Bambi's fault and not his. Jack Harmon never made mistakes.

"Sure he's got issues," Bambi spoke up. "But, don't we all?"

This line of questioning continued until the one of the glee kids asked:

"If we agree to let him in, will you two shut up?" It was the voice of Mohawk Jew that asked this question.

That gave Jack the signal he needed. He opened the door of the music room, as if on cue.

"Let's get right down to business," Jack said, embracing Rachel with a very quick hug before addressing everyone else. "I understand that many of you doubt me. To be fair, I doubt all of you as well, especially a select few," he groaned inwardly at the sight of Kressley, the Car Girl, and Wheels. "But, do trust me when I tell you all now that my top priority will always be the good of this club. No matter what I do, from here on out in relation to Glee, will be for its own personal betterment."

Mr. Schuester did not seem to know how to respond to this statement: Was he making a threat or was it a promise to improve the club? Still, Jack had a natural talent and he knew that Mr. Schuester knew this as well. And they could use every ounce of raw talent that they were able to get their hands on.

"Okay," the glee director stated, "well, right now we're in the middle of an assignment. Males versus females in a mash-ups competition."

"I'll sit this one out," Jack responded. "It wouldn't be fair to the women for the men to have this new ace up their sleeves. That being said, I will judge."

"Judge?" Mr. Schue questioned, stunned at how quickly this new addition had pulled a Rachel. "Not to be rude, but we already have a judge lined up."

"Then have more than one," Jack replied simply. "Honestly, my expertise and constructive criticism could do wonders here."

So, Jack Harmon was officially a member of the glee club. Only one person seemed genuinely thrilled, and that was Rachel Berry. All the rest, well, they would just have to get use to it.

**0000000000**

"Hey," Jack craned his head around to see Mitchell jogging down the hall to catch up with him. "You still owe me."

"How so?"

"Santana pulled a 180 last night," Mitchell explained. "Your tips didn't matter. She was a completely different person during dinner."

"Not my problem," Jack responded as he walked away.

"Not your problem," Mitchell repeated. He picked up the pace and was able to catch up with him. "Dude, I got you into the club."

"Because I helped you with your lady troubles. Although, I use the term _lady _very loosely."

"Look," Mitchell boldly stepped in front of Jack, stopping him in his tracks. "I need more help. And, you're the first person I've met that's one-hundred percent objective on the subject."

"True," Jack agreed, "I don't much care for either of you. However, if what you say is true and she has pulled a 180, then I'm really no use to you in that department. I was in the midst of preparing you for girl everyone knows, not one only you know."

"So... You got what you wanted, and now you're bailing?"

Jack shook his head. "Not bailing. Merely…" he pursed his lips, searching for the right words, "exhibiting a general lack of further interest."

The two of them went their separate ways.

**0000000000**

Jack had not lost sight of two things that had been happening in the last couple of days. One, the glee club was having a competition between the boys and the girls. Today was the boys' turn. But, there was something else that he had noticed. And that was the fact that there were certain members of the club that seemed more exhausted than a whorish Roman Empress after screwing 25 men in one night.

But, now, they were energized and ready to roll. He wasn't sure how this had happened. He was sitting in alone in his thinking spot, a room on McKinley's unoccupied third floor when his cell phone rang.

"Hello," he said, sliding the phone open. "Buckley? What's the good word?"

Jack crossed his legs and listened as Buckley informed him of the reason as to why a Sheets N' Things manager had taken a job as a school nurse. The reason was, in his mind, absolutely hysterical. She was keeping an eye on her husband because she thought he was cheating with the doe-eyed guidance counselor. It would be funny in a humorous way if wasn't so damned funny in a sad way.

Jack hadn't known Mr. Schuester for a long time now, but he could tell this guy didn't have it in him to cheat on his wife. Wedding vows meant something to the guy, he was sure of it. Okay, one question answered. That just left the newly energized members of New Directions. Why were they all suddenly as peppy as a Brad Garrett on speed?

**0000000000**

Jack emerged from the third floor, ready to judge the boys vs. girls' competition. He knew that the glee club was good, but he also knew they had a lot of bugs to work out of their system, hoping that they wouldn't screw up anything.

**0000000000**

Jack slipped into the music room, taking a seat next to Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester. He waved to Rachel as the boys entered the room, each one amped up for their performance. The familiar sounds of the Bon Jovi classic _It's My Life_ began to play and, to say that the guys were not in the zone would be like saying that you didn't get chills every time you watched Daniel Bryan in the ring, it was just that amazing. On top of that, they managed to take _It's My Life_ and Usher's _Confessions_, mash them up, and managed to make it sound good.

But, there was something amiss in the performance, something artificial about the whole thing. There was something in the water in the school today and he was out of the loop. And that was just **wrong!**

**0000000000**

"It's moments like this when I wish I hadn't gotten rid of all of those phone bugs," Jack groused as he walked down the hallways of McKinley, Rachel not that far behind him.

"Why did you?" she inquired.

"I found out that Miss Vector was running a phone sex line out of her office." His answer was casual and to the point as Rachel had come to expect.

"That's disgusting."

"So much so I didn't even bother with a flashback. It's also why I swore to never to tap the phone lines of bored educators in cow towns ever again." He rubbed his chin. "If I hadn't though, I'd know what was happening with the guys in the club. Something fake."

"That's because they were taking performance enhancing drugs," Rachel said.

Jack's eyes widened. It's all made sense.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I don't think Kurt has any reason to lie to me about something like that," she answered.

Jack bit his lip, trying his best to stifle a laugh. He was unsuccessful and he started laughing in the middle of the hall, completely ignoring the annoyed jocks and other students trying to get around him.

"That's actually brilliant," he said. "I wouldn't have thought they'd go that route. I just thought they were trying to overdose on Red Bull."

"It's not funny," Rachel argued. "It's cheating. If they win because of this, they wouldn't have earned it. And it would be a slap in the face to me and all of the girls in the club."

Jack felt a light bulb activate over his head.

"Why don't you level the playing field?" he asked.

"What?"

"Force them to pull out or you'll tell Mr. Schue what they did, you'll win by default, but you'll still win," Jack suggested. "Rachel, sometimes, you have to get down in the gutter if you want something bad enough."

He arched his eyebrows at his friend, hoping that the wave of wicked intentions would pass on to her.

**0000000000**

The following day, the club had assembled and Rachel stood before the club, introducing the song.

"Thank you so much, it really is a pleasure." It seemed like someone had pressed the fast forward button on her mouth. "While the boys chose a selection of songs that casts an eye inward on the irresponsible life choices and sexual hunger of today's modern teens, we have chosen a selection of songs that speaks of the nation as a whole during these troubling times filled with economic uncertainty and unbridled social woes, because if there's two things America needs right now, that is sunshine and optimism!" Was that all? "Also angels." Suppose not.

**'I know what you're all thinking: Why the hell am I judging a competition where I don't particularly care who wins when I could be figuring out a way to use this sudden development to my advantage?'**

The girls began to sing a spirited rendition of _Walking On Sunshine_ mashed up with _Halo_.

**'Well, to be honest, I know now who's been supplying the drugs. And, if I use this, I could topple any shot I have of getting into Schuester's good graces.'**

**0000000000**

_Only hours before, Jack followed Rachel and the glee girls to the nurse's office. He slipped back against the wall, hiding there until he heard Terri give them the drugs. Well, everyone but Blondie. She got folic acid. Though this would not be explained to Jack until much later in the month._

**0000000000**

**'Needless to say, finking on them would be the worst possible idea. Now, I could stop this whole thing, end the cheating debacle all together, but I decided not to. For two reasons, one: the Mohawk Jew threw me out of a window yesterday.'**

**0000000000**

_Jack went soaring out of the first floor window of the music room. _

**0000000000**

**'And two, I think this all very, very funny.'**

The girls concluded the song, getting a round of applause from Mr. Schue, Ms. Pillsbury, and Jack.

"I guess we have our work cut out for us, Ms. Pillsbury," Jack said arrogantly, noticing the change in Mr. Schue's demeanor.

"Jack," the Spanish teacher said. "Again, I never said that you could judge the competition."

"Mr. Schue, I understand," Jack said. "But, hear me out. Getting a judge out of a peer group can be kind of intimidating. I just think that having me being a judge would open the performers up. And you can't argue with results."

**'Nice save, Harm.'**

**'Yeah, I have my moments.'**

Jack smiled his best stage smile; all the while Mr. Schue was studying the younger man. He sighed.

"You know," Mr. Schue said. "You could be right. Since you got here they've been really energized."

"What can I say; I bring out the competitive side in people."

**0000000000**

Later that night, Jack was in Sheets N' Things, purchasing a new down comforter for his bed.

'Cursed industrial strength glue,' he complained inwardly. He was going to have to be more careful in the future, those damn thumbtacks stung.

He also wondered whom he should vote for in the mash-up performances. On one hand, the boys' performance featured songs he actually liked, but they cheated. Now, he wasn't one to say that cheating was bad when it got the desired results. On the other hand, the girls cheated to level the playing field, and their performance was, technically, better. But, he didn't care for their song selections.

He would've spent all of his time in line thinking about this situation if he hadn't heard the sounds of people crashing to the floor. Jack whipped around to see the police and Howard Bamboo struggling on the ground.

"Howard Bamboo," the lead cop said. "You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, an attorney will be provided to you by a court of law."

**0000000000**

"I am so disappointed in you guys," Mr. Schue spent much of the rehearsal period the next day laying the old Murray McGuilt-Trip on the club.

"I was against it the whole time, Mr. Schue," Jack interjected. "But, the guys threatened to throw me out of a window if I said anything. I haven't recovered from-"

"You knew about this the whole time!" Rachel shouted.

"Only because you told me," Jack countered.

"You told him!" Finn screamed at Rachel.

Mr. Schue glared at his students, that glare that only comes when a person wants you to shut the fuck up and is either too polite to use those exact words or too pissed to actually say them.

"Mr. Schue," Rachel said. "We didn't mean for it get this far."

"I understand," the Spanish teacher confessed. "But because of what you guys did, it's been decided that I'm not fit to be the sole director of this club. Principal Figgins has appointed a co-director."

"Who'd he pick?" Finn inquired.

No sooner was this question asked did Sue Sylvester waltz into the room.

**0000000000**

"I can't believe I was so damn stupid!" Jack screamed, slamming his fist into his locker.

He stepped back and realized that he had dented the metal door.

"Not my fault," he declared to no one in particular.

This was bad. And by bad, it was WrestleMania XI bad. Sue Sylvester as the co-director of glee club? He could've stopped it. He could've, but he didn't. All for a cheap laugh.

'I guess it was worth it,' he thought, the bitter taste of sarcasm clear.

"Jack," he heard a female voice call out to him.

Jack turned around and saw Rachel.

"Hey," he said, switching gears and changing his expression back to his typical Stonehenge replica.

"We really screwed up, didn't we?" she asked.

"Yeah," he confessed. "I guess we'll all just have to make the best of it."

"I guess so," she said.

"Come on," he said. "My dad's sending a company car to pick me; I can give you a lift home."

"I'd like that," Rachel said. "On the way, we can discuss possible song selections for next week. We may have to show true solidarity with this new obstacle."

"Without a doubt," Jack said, offering his arm to the smaller girl.

She took it gladly and the two walked out of McKinley. So, in the week he had been in glee club, he had manipulated his way into the club, been a part of a major scandal, and may have made a new friend. He couldn't help but wonder what the next week was going to hold.

**0000000000**

**A/N: I can only apologize for taking so long to update this story. My muse, and by muse, I mean the voice in the back of my head that gives me story ideas was awfully silent except for a few unfloatable ideas here and there. But, hey, new episodes might mean new inspiration. **

**I also want to thank ZeroBen for letting me use Mitchell Mason and scences from _A Different Point of View_. Check it out, you will not be disappointed. **

**So, as always, ****feel free to leave your opinions, critiques, and thoughts when you've finished reading. **

**Until next time, this is Soulless Warlock saying, "Good morning, good afternoon, good night, and good luck to all the people of the world."**


	3. Throwdown

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, ****Brad Falchuk****, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

**0000000000**

The sounds of ominous Latin chanting filled the arena as Sue Sylvester and Will Schuester unleashed a fury of insults and rage toward each other. Jack Harmon watched the scene from the stage.

**'Is it just me or are they shouting slower than usual?'** Jack's voiceover inquired.

**'I think you're right,'** Finn's voiceover replied.

**'This is ridiculous!'** Rachel's voiceover added. **'I see no reason for them to drag us into their disagreement?'**

**'Sweet Zombie Jesus,'** Jack declared. **'Ninja kick the damn coach and end it. I don't even think she's a woman.' **

**'I may never forgive myself for letting this happen,'** Rachel said.

**'Pass out a signup sheet, Rachel. I'd like to join that club,'** Jack added.

**0000000000**

Several days earlier, Jack was sitting alone in the choir room, his fingers moving across the piano. He knew that this would be the first day that Sue Sylvester would officially take over as the co-director of New Directions. It wasn't something he was looking forward, she was out to destroy the glee club, he knew from the moment she saw her playing darts with the club's picture.

'I could liquefy her,' he thought. 'Nah, too messy. I need something clean and precise. I could fake a sexual harassment suit. No, could be exposed. I've gotta think of something, something where my fingerprints won't be found. Think, Harmon, she starts today!'

He would've stayed in this thought process for the rest of the day had he not heard the door open. Jack whipped around, almost sliding off of the stool. He quickly caught him and straightened his posture when he saw the person standing in the doorway.

"Hello, Blondie," he said to Quinn in his usual detached manner, standing up for the lady.

"Didn't mean to scare you," the Cheerio captain said, moving past him.

"Oh no," Jack said. "Far from it. I was just thrown for a loop. I always stand up for a lady. You should've announced yourself."

"I'm kind of keeping a low profile," she confessed.

"A little hard when you're the most popular girl in the school."

"A little."

Jack watched her sit in the chair next to where Finn would normally sit. She looked up and the two locked eyes.

"Yes," Quinn asked.

She had caught him.

"I had a question," he said quickly. "You've been on the Cheerios since your freshman year, correct?"

"Yeah," the blonde girl answered.

"Could you give me a rundown of what Sylvester's like? I've been going to wall trying to learn what I could about her. The weird thing is, even my uncle's contacts in the FBI couldn't give me all of the information that they had. Something about a national security risk."

"Well," Quinn paused. How to answer this one? "She's kind of like a drill instructor."

"The one from Full Metal Jacket or the one from Forrest Gump?"

Quinn chuckled lightly at this question.

"Does it really matter? They were both loud and irrational. But, they got the job done. We've won Nationals five years in a row because of her."

"That is impressive," Jack said. "If you consider cheerleading a sport, which I don't."

"Why are you asking me this?" Quinn inquired.

"Straight to the point, I like that."

"Well," she shrugged, "I've had to keep so many secrets that I—I like to hear honesty every now and then."

"I can appreciate that," Jack said. "To answer your question, I have a feeling she's up to something. I don't know what it is, but I'm sure it's nefarious."

"'Nefarious'?"

"Yes. Nefarious."

"I didn't think anyone used that word anymore."

"I use a lot of words nobody uses anymore," Jack said. "But, back to my original point, I don't like not knowing things. For some reason, my sources were afraid to dig up anything on her. And from what I've been seen and been told, she's got it out for the glee club. Needless to say, I made a promise to you guys when I joined and I meant every word of it."

Quinn nodded.

"Unless I'm being paranoid?"

"No, that's a pretty good assessment of Coach Sylvester," Quinn stated. "She's got it out for glee."

"Great," Jack growled. "Well, for what it's worth, thank you for this information."

"You're welcome," Quinn said, the blonde tenor turning back to the piano.

He sat in there, playing an unrecognizable tune, all the while noticing that she was still watching him.

"Free period?" he asked.

"What?" he must have pulled her out of a daydream.

"I asked if you had a free period," he repeated.

"Yeah. I figured no one would be in here. I needed a place to sit down, clear my head."

"Part of the reason why I come here. But, I find that focusing on music helps me relax."

He smiled at her. But, there was something else he noticed, she seemed relaxed as well. It was kind of interesting. Whenever he had observed her in the past, she had always seemed as if she was in a static state, afraid to be dynamic for the sake of self-image. This was an interesting development to say the least: a Cheerio who could be mellow.

"You have a nice smile." Her words yanked him out of his observations.

"Thank you?" he replied, unsure of where this was leading.

"I mean that," she said. "When you do you're nowhere near as scary as everyone says you are."

"Okay then, I'll have to stop smiling altogether," Jack stated. "Can't have people thinking I'm human, can I?"

Quinn laughed at this joke. It was a light laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

'Damn it, Harmon! You're not supposed to drop your guard. For all you know, Sylvester could be a shape shifter waiting for you drop your guard and take you out.'

It made sense that she would do something like that. You take out the glee club members, you don't have a club. Without a club, you've got no competition. It all made sense…well, to him, anyways. And he continued this line of thinking until the rest of the glee club filed into the room.

**0000000000**

Later that day, Coach Sylvester and Mr. Schuester both went for the gold in the ass-kissing Olympics.

Jack had zoned out during this time, completely missing out on the arguments. Instead, he chose to focus on the talking head that was Sue Sylvester. He looked at her Florence Henderson hairdo, the very sight of it made his insides boil. And she had the temerity to mock Mr. Schue's hair when she looked like she stuck her head in a Flowbee.

He was brought back to reality when Sylvester whipped out the Show Choir Handbook.

"Wait a damn minute," he declared. "There's a rulebook?"

"That's right, Stonehenge," Stonehenge? What the hell? "And, if you and your teacher had bothered to read page 165, article two, addendum four, it clearly states that a group of twelve is required to qualify for Sectionals. However, not all members are required to perform."

"Fine," Schue growled. "Just take your Cheerios and the football players and go."

Sylvester's smug smile only seemed to grow when she picked up her clipboard. "Now, when I call your name, join me on the other side of this black, shiny thing."

"It's called a piano, Sue."

"Santana!" and the picking commenced, "Wheels! Gay Kid! Asian and the Other Asian! Aretha and Shaft!"

Jack was laughing so bad, that he had tears in his eyes. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, she got rid of the excess baggage the club had collected and it would give him a chance to show the club what he could really do without anyone to interrupt him or act like a massive tool because they weren't getting attention.

**0000000000**

_"The sky's gonna open, people gonna pray and crawl,"_ Jack sang, his voice filling the auditorium as he sat on the edge of the stage, playing his guitar. _"It's gonna rain down fire, it's gonna burn us all. The sky's gonna open, people gonna pray and sing…I can't feel…"_

He placed his guitar on the stage, popping down to the floor.

"Jack!"

Rachel raced into the room.

"We have a crisis on deck."

"Sue Sylvester just split the group," he said. "I would say that's a problem if I didn't think that it wouldn't help me in the end."

"This problem is bigger than Sue," Rachel insisted.

Rachel hesitated for a moment, was she making the right decision? Jack was notorious for overreacting to things. Even in the time where they had never spoken, Jack had a reputation for his elaborate and humiliating revenge schemes.

"'Bigger than Sue'?" Jack inquired. "I wouldn't let her hear you say that, might lead to some unfortunate consequences."

The taller student moved closer to the petite brunette, a swagger in his action.

"There's a problem," Jack said. "Considering that you've come to me, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this is something big, something the others can't fix. I'm more than willing to fix it. I just need to know what it is."

Rachel sighed. It was now or never.

"Do you know about…" she paused again, "Quinn and Finn's situation?"

Jack arched an eyebrow. "What kind of situation?"

"Quinn's pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Jack repeated.

He shrugged.

"That disappoints me," he said. "I thought she was different."

He took a seat, inviting Rachel to sit.

"I take it then there's an added caveat." Jack said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have come to me with this sort of information."

Rachel nodded. "Jacob Ben-Israel."

"Ooh, not good," Jack said. "He knows?"

"Yes," Rachel said. "And he's threatening to post it on his blog."

"Unless?"

"Unless what?"

"Rachel, I've blackmailed enough people in my time to know when someone's being blackmailed themselves."

"He's already got a pair of my panties," Rachel blurted out.

Jack gritted his teeth.

"That isn't even right," Jack said.

Rachel bit her lower lip.

"I couldn't let him run the story," she said. "Just imagine of what this would do to the club. To Finn."

"And Quinn," he concluded for her.

"Yes, and Quinn," she said. "All I know is, I caved to him. And when you cave to someone, they think you'll do anything for them or…" she grimaced painfully, "to them to keep them happy."

"You want me to make sure he's too scared to do run the story?"

"It goes against all of my moral safeguards, but yes. Yes, I want you to fix this for the sake of the others. For Finn…"

"And Quinn?"

"Yes."

Jack pursed his lips; he did want to put Ben-Israel in his place. He had promised his father that he would only attack with a real reason, and helping a friend certainly counted as a valid reason. Hopefully, his dad would believe him when he said he had made friends.

**0000000000**

Jack moved down the halls of the school, the music room in his sights when he spotted something odd: Sue's Kids were exiting the music room. What were they doing there? He wondered into the room, just in time for a re-invigorated Mr. Schuester quickly handed his students the sheet music.

Jack studied the sheet music, turning it over, hoping to find the joke on the paper he was holding.

"Huh?" Jack declared, raising his hand. "Mr. Schuester, I disagree. Should we not try to match the fire Sue started with their song?"

"That's what I was thinking at first," Mr. Schue answered. "But, I had an idea a couple days ago when I ran into Mitchell in the hall."

"Of course!" Quinn muttered.

"I knew Bambi was somehow behind this," Jack said to Quinn from the side of his mouth.

Quinn smiled at the quip. The old Quinn Fabray was back. Jack had always liked that one.

"If Sue is going with hate, then we are going with love," Mr. Schuester insisted. "We are going to prove that we can be productive in a positive way. Love can burn just as hot as hate."

"Well, I for one, agree with you, Mr. Schuester," Rachel stated.

"Let's just do a quick rehearsal," Mr. Schue said. "Your parts are highlighted on your sheets."

"Wait," Finn stalled the performance. "This doesn't feel right. We shouldn't... I mean..."

"I share the feeling," Jack stood up, rubbing out the ceases in his pants. "I'm not focused, and if I'm not on my game…All will suffer."

"Was that a complaint or a threat?" Puck whispered to Mitchell.

"I think it was both," Mitchell replied.

"Guys," Rachel interjected. "We have to make do with what we have. I know it stinks that we're split into two, but we can still make this work."

"Oh please," Quinn scoffed. "The only reason you're behind this idea is because it shines an even bigger spotlight on you than before."

Jack nearly smirked.

'This could be interesting.'

A cat-fight with his two favorite girls? Hm, that could be kind of sexy.

"Can we just get this over with?" Puck asked.

They then started the song "No Air" and somehow magically ended up in the auditorium. As predicted, Rachel and Finn were the stars of this performance. Mitchell, Puck, Brittany, Jack and Quinn were relegated to the background. This was something Quinn would not be accepting at all.

"Mr. Schuester," Quinn stepped ahead of everyone on the stage, "this is stupid. The rest of us are just swaying in the background like props."

"Quinn…" Finn quietly tried to settle her down.

"No!" she exclaimed vehemently. "The rest of us might as well not even be here, you could do the same thing with cardboard cut-outs and a box-fan!"

"I agree," Jack agreed. "The two of them do an amazing job - not as good as I, but I digress - the rest of us are being wasted, even the Theorist, Bambi and the Mohawked-Jew! And that right there is saying something drastic!"

"Who are they?" Brittany was confused.

Puck and Mitchell kept silent.

"We need to stick together, now more than ever," Will unintentionally rhymed. "Listen…"

"No!" Quinn remained defiant. "There's no listening."

Will took a deep breath to keep himself calm, "Let's just call it a day." he gathered his things and left the auditorium, "I'm sorry this selection is upsetting you, Quinn. I really am, but we're up against a wall here, and we need something big to push through it."

Jack sighed in a way that had a blending of aggravation inside of it, "I hate to say it, but he does have a point."

"You agree with that bullshit?" Quinn was straight to the point.

_"__Partially_," Jack nodded. "If Sue is truly our enemy here, then Mr. Schuester has a good idea with the positivity plan. However, his song choice is poor. No offense to the father of your baby, but it should be me singing with Rachel."

"Dude," Finn protested, "I'm right here."

"Rachel knows it," Jack said, his wicked smile becoming larger with each syllable. "She knows what I can do…What I'm capable of."

"If it's being capable of being a jack-ass…Then I know that, too," Mohawk-Jew said with a smirk.

Everyone around him laughed even the Theorist giggled, though there was a good chance that she was humored by something in her head rather than what was taking place in front of her.

"You three can't possibly be okay with just swaying in the background," Quinn turned her attention towards Mitchell, Brittany and Puck. "Seems to me that minorities aren't the only people that he's trying to hold down."

**0000000000**

"I think I've solved our Jew-Fro problem," Jack said triumphantly as he entered the music room the following day.

This got the attention of Rachel, Finn, and Quinn.

"Imagine this," Jack said, segue waying into a flashback

**000000000**

**"I was able to find out where he goes every day after school is over,"** _he explained._ **"Imagine my shock when I learned it wasn't to the peephole drilled into the walls of the Cheerio locker room." **

**"There's a peephole in the locker room?" **

**"Yeah." **

**"How do you know?" **

**"Do you wanna hear the story or not?" **

**"So, I snuck into the computer lab before he even got there,"** _Jack said as his past self performed the action._ **"And that is where I set my trap."**

_Past Jack placed a can of shaving cream under Jew-Fro's seat, setting a timer before the brillo-haired gossip-monger entered the room. The past version of Jack dove for cover as he counted the seconds. _

_When the clock hit zero, the shaving cream exploded. Past Jack sprang to his feet and moved toward the fallen Jacob Ben-Israel. _

**"And I've got more where that came from if you don't kill the preggo Cheerio story,"** _Jack snarled as he brought them all back to the present. _

**000000000**

"So," he said arrogantly, turning his attention to Quinn and Finn, "there's no need for you two to thank me."

"You really set off a can of shaving cream like a bomb?" Finn asked.

"Certainly," Jack said. "Shaving cream gags are a classic. And, when tempered with eminent and frightening danger, even funnier."

Jack sat back in his chair, smiling arrogantly.

"Now, I think we've got one more thing to fix," Jack said.

"Agreed," Rachel said. "We need to find some way to get the glee club back together."

**000000000**

Back in the present day, Jack, Rachel, and Finn saw the situation present itself as they watched from the stage as Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester unleashed their venom on each other. They had interrupted their personal performance and were bringing their drama into the glee club.

"You'll spend the rest of your life alone!" Mr. Schue snapped.

Jack had to admit one thing, you rile Mr. Schue, he want from doormat to what Jack imagined himself to be in 20 years. But, you know, successful.

"If we wanted to hear mom and dad fight, those of us who still have two parents would stay at home on payday," Gigantor declared passionately.

"Yeah, you guys are sucking all of the fun out of glee club," Mercury argued.

"Fellow glee clubbers, it would be an honor to show you all how to properly storm out of the room," Rachel said, now in brighter spirits.

"It would be better if the two of us showed them how it was properly done," Jack added.

**0000000000**

A few days later, the glee club was reunited and Mr. Schue became full director again. However, they were all left reeling by the fact that Sylvester knew that Quinn was pregnant. She had revealed that, upon seeing a shaving cream covered Jacob Ben-Israel, she had decided to implement the random locker search when she came across the panties given to him by Rachel.

Sylvester verbally assaulted the terrified Jew-Fro and, in his terror, the gossip monger revealed the glee club's closely guarded secret. The secret was out around the school.

Jack looked back at Quinn, practically curled up in Finn's arms as he tried to comfort her. Jack turned away from the scene, shutting his locker and moving toward the auditorium. He had done it again, he had caused the domino effect that lead to another secret being revealed or the rules of the game being changed.

"You okay?" he heard a feminine voice asked.

Jack turned around to see Rachel behind him.

"Yeah, I'll live," Jack said. "I did it again."

"Did what?"

"I let my pride get the better of me," he said. "And someone else got hurt because of it."

"I should apologize than," Rachel said.

Jack arched an eyebrow at her.

"If I hadn't come to you, you wouldn't have done that and Quinn's secret would've stayed a secret. For a little while longer anyway."

She took a seat next to Jack.

"Wow," he said. "Is that Jew guilt inborn or is it a learned response to bad shit?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes before replying lightly, "I think it's inborn."

The two chuckled.

"Besides," Jack said. "You didn't know it would come to this. If I screw up, it's usually on me."

"But, Coach Sylvester found the underwear I gave him."

"At least your part in it was selfless. You wanted to help a friend."

Rachel gritted her teeth. "Not exactly. I did what I did to try and get Finn's attention."

"Yeah, but if I hadn't set off that bomb we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Can we agree to disagree?"

Jack shrugged. "Why not?"

Rachel put out her hand. "And about we work together to make sure we never screw up again?"

"Agreed," he said, shaking her hand. "We have perfect reputation to maintain."

The two stood up as the club filed into the auditorium. Mr. Schue cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention. The music began to fill the room as Rachel took the lead.

_"You're not alone, together we stand, I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand…"_

Jack stayed focused on those words as the club moved in unison, each member staying on Finn or Quinn, in a state of solidarity. It was the first time in his time in the glee club, possibly in his whole life, Jack Harmon felt something special. The group was whole again and, together, they would live up to the words of the song.

**000000000**

**A/N: Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm not too positive about it. I like some of it, but I'm not sure about the rest. I'm almost 95 percent positive that it works out, but I'm a biased party. I feel the ending is kind of cheesy, but I wasn't sure where to go with it. So, feel free to let me know what you think of it. Was it good? Bad? Medium? God awful? Any thoughts or ideas of how to improve it, I'd love to hear them.**

**And now, as I do not believe in goodbyes, I would like to say good night, good luck, good morning, and good day to all the people of the world.**

**Signed**  
**Soulless Warlock**


	4. Wheels

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, ****Brad Falchuk****, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

**0000000000**

**A/N: After three choices, I finally have an actor for Jack's father, Kristopher. He is now played by Ron Raines, who is currently playing Ben Stone in the revival of Stephen Sondheim's _Follies_. He also played Alan Spaulding on _Guiding Light_ for 15 years. If you want to hear him sing look up "If I Can't Love Her-Ron Raines", it's a wonderful performance.**

**0000000000**

Jack began his brisk walk into McKinley High School, the swagger in his step back in full swing. He had spent much of the last week in Atlanta with his father and it had rejuvenated him. Granted, he had missed out on a lot of things: Namely the fact that Rachel had made her move on someone else and, of all people, the Mohawk-Jew.

Thankfully, it was over. Also, he had schooled Bambi on the importance of a utilitarian approach to life. He didn't take the advice, but the seed was sown. All and all, Jack felt like the failures of the past month or so was behind him and he intended for them to stay that way.

"Greetings, peasants!" he declared as he turned into the sophomore hall, only to be splashed in the face by a bevy of slushies.

**0000000000**

Jack sat in the music room, Rachel wiping the corn syrup out of his eyes.

"I cannot even begin to tell you how much I hate those damn slushies," Jack growled. "Now, I've got an idea for a possible choice for Sectionals."

"Even in the worst of situations, you're still dedicated to this group," Rachel said brightly.

"Hey guys," Jack heard the voice of Mr. Schue as the teacher entered the room, passing out sheet music to everyone. "Something new for sectionals. I did a little research on the past winners. Turns out that judges like more Broadway type selections. More standards."

Jack took the sheet music, the fructose finally out of his eyes. He looked down at the music and looked back at Rachel, whose eyes were about as light as a Broadway marquee.

"_Defying Gravity_?" Hummer was following suit. "I have an IPod that is strictly _Wicked_. This is amazing."

Why didn't that surprise him? Admittedly, Jack had the same thing, but Hummer was a pain in the ass and he was Jack Harmon.

"How do you feel about it, Rachel?" Mr. Schue turned immediately to Rachel.

"In the bag, Mr. Schue," Rachel said confidentially. "I know this song frontwards and backwards?"

"How 'bout sidewards?" Puck laughed.

'Seriously?' Jack thought.

"I have some bad news, guys." Of course. Finally something they were on a subject he was enjoying and Mr. Schue had to bring them down. "I heard just a while ago that the school won't be able to pay for the special bus we need to take Artie with us to sectionals."

Everyone voiced their disgust at once.

"Not to worry, though. I have an idea," Mr. Schue said. "We're going to raise money to pay for it ourselves."

'This could be a bad thing,' Jack thought. According to the others, the last time he said he had a great idea they were given _La Freak_, which they converted into _Push It_. 'Six of one, half dozen of the other.'

Mr. Schue's voice cut through Jack's thoughts. "When my old glee club needed something, we had decided to raise money by holding a bake sale."

Jack opened his mouth to say something…

"You've got to be joking, right?" Slut-Puppy cut him off. "Bake Sales are pretty bougie."

"No offense, Mr. Schue, but no one really has time enough for a bake sale." Finn said.

"Some of us don't know how to bake." Bambi confessed.

"I find recipes confusing," the Theorist had to add her two cents.

"Not to sound rude, Mr. Schuester, but can't Artie's dad drive him to Sectionals?" Mercury asked.

"I can't believe how insensitive you're all being," Mr. Schue said. "And here I was thinking that we would be tighter than ever because of everything that's happened recently. I mean, aren't you all a team?"

"Of course we are," Pregnoid voiced. "But, Artie understands. Don't you, Artie?"

"Yeah," Wheels shrugged at the question. It was clear he was upset, but he chose not to say a thing. "It's no big deal. I understand that we're all busy and anything that takes away from our time here is only going to hurt us in the long run."

School bell came next.

**0000000000**

The sounds of ZZ Top's Sharp-Dressed Man sounded off from Jack's alarm clock radio. He looked over at the clock, which read 5:00 a.m.; his father would be up in an hour and a half. Jack kicked off his blanket and the wakeup montage officially began.

_Clean shirt, new shoes  
And I don't know where I am goin' to_

He rolled off of the bed and onto the floor, catching himself on his hands, and began his early morning warm-ups and calisthenics, the music energizing him for the day to come.

_Silk suit, black tie  
I don't need a reason why_

Finishing those off, he leapt to his feet and opened his linen closet, which was situated across from his bed. Choosing the top towel, he whipped around to the dresser by the bathroom door, pulling out a pair of boxers.

_They come runnin' just as fast as they can  
'Cause every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man_

He closed the door, tossing the old boxers over his shoulder, hooking them on the door. Jack opened the shower door and stepped in.

_Gold watch, diamond ring  
I ain't missin' not a single thing_

After completing his shower, Jack stepped out, wrapping the towel securely around his waist before brushing his teeth and combing his hair. It took much effort to be the pinnacle of visual and physical perfection and he took great pride in the results of his routine.

_And cufflinks, stick pin  
When I step out I'm gonna do you in_

He opened the bathroom door and exited his room, moving toward his closet. Jack picked up his remote and the sliding doors opened, revealing his wardrobe. On this day, he selected a khaki casual suit and a pair of brown Neil Loafers.

_They come runnin' just as fast as they can  
_'_Cause every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man_

Jack began to the task of placing the clothing on, each piece carefully placed onto the shape and contours of his body to the sounds of Dusty Hill's guitar riff. Each twist of his tie, buttoning of his shirt, and zipping his fly as the guitar picked up speed.

_Top coat, top hat  
Well I don't worry 'cause my wallet's fat_

He pulled out the shoe polish, making sure that the loafers were at peak condition.

_Black shades, white gloves  
Lookin' sharp and lookin' for love_

Jack put on his shoes and pressed the remote, closing the closet. He climbed up the steps to the kitchen, dancing to the final words of the song.

_They come runnin' just as fast as they can  
'Cause every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man!_

As the song ended, Jack entered the kitchen and saw his father standing at the counter, sipping his coffee, dressed as equally dapper as his son. Though, Mr. Harmon was not the physical specimen his son thought himself to be.

"About time," the older man said. "You're a little bit behind."

"ZZ Top was playing," Jack countered, stepping in to the counter where his father had poured him a glass of orange juice.

"Good enough reason as any," Kristopher Harmon commented as his only child downed the juice in three gulps. "You in a hurry or something?"

"No," Jack said, "just in a good mood."

Kristopher arched an eyebrow at this development. "And what would be the cause of that?" he asked.

"Honestly," he said, "I have no Earthly idea. I just feel rejuvenated."

"You're too young to feel like that," Kristopher said.

"And you're too old for those pajamas," Jack quipped.

"We're getting into age jokes, now?"

"Trust me," Jack said. "I wouldn't dare get into it with you. You've been around forever and you wrote the very first joke."

Kristopher chuckled. "I'll get you for that, boy."

The threat was good-natured which got a rare treat for the older man: a genuine smile from his son.

"I'd like to see you try," Jack countered in a faux-arrogant tone.

"So, where do you wanna go for breakfast?" Kristopher asked, putting his cup in the sink.

Jack and his dad made their way to the front door of the house as the divo tried to decide what he wanted for breakfast this morning.

**0000000000**

Jack was in the music room when he heard Hummer make the most bizarre announcement he had ever heard in his life.

"I have an announcement."

**I just said that. **

"I realize this may seem a touch risqué, but I wanna audition for the _Wicked_ solo."

**What!**

"There's a difficult high F, Kurt," Mr. Schue said. Valid point. "It's…very high."

"Well within my range."

That's a laugh! A laugh that Jack voiced aloud.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, Rachel's got it," Mr. Schue, effectively vetoing Hummer's audition hopes. "But, I'll be happy to have you try something else. Killer high note and all."

Mr. Schue continued to address the club. "Now onto something that's been bothering me. I was really disappointed at how you were all so willing to take the bus together to sectionals without Artie. Didn't we learn anything from Mitchell's gift a couple weeks ago? We're supposed to be a team. We're on this road together, for better or worse."

"_Wheels_ has his own wheels," Jack said casually. Then an idea came to mind. "What if we just hitch it to the back of the bus?"

"Dude!" Bambi seemed offended and mortified.

"Artie doesn't care," Mercury added. "His dad drives him all over the place."

"I do care," Wheels confessed. "That…kind of hurt my feelings."

"We weren't expecting you to take it personally," Rachel said.

"Well, you're irritating most of the time, but don't take that personally."

'That was uncalled for,' Jack thought.

"This made me realize something," Mr. Schue pressed; his point hammered home, "I don't think any of you truly understand how much harder Artie has it than the rest of you. Guys, we're riding to sectionals as a team or we're not going at all. I'll pull New Directions out of the competition if I have to. And to pay for it, we're having a bake sale."

'I'm not doing it,' Jack said, praying that that statement stayed in his head. The last thing he wanted was the rest of the club saddling him with bake sale duty.

"Now, to really hit home all of this, I visited a tag sale that St. Ignatius Nursing Home was having." Will stepped aside as the wheelchairs were pushed into the room by the A.V. Club. "For the next five days, each of you is going to spend at least three hours a day in one of these," he gestured to the chairs. "Plus, we're doing a wheelchair number."

A what-now? Jack turned to see the AV club pushing wheelchairs into the music. That was when he began pondering the moral ramification of pushing Wheels down a flight of steps. Considering that he was in a chair, he couldn't do any real damage to him, but he was in a chair, so he'd look like an ever bigger dick than usual. For some reason, this good mood was keeping him from torturing those around him.

**0000000000**

"This is downright undignified!" Jack bellowed he and Bambi rolled down the halls next to each other.

Jack, never to be outdone, was riding in a motorized wheelchair, his hand practically super glued to the throttle.

"Where did you get that?" Bambi asked. I mean, it's not the one that…"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jack said as he pressed on the throttle launching himself at the sea of students, Bambi disappearing from view. "Out of my way, Egyptian slave drivers!"

As he continued his trek down the hallway where he met up with Rachel.

"Can you believe this?" Jack crowed. "I mean, what does he hope to accomplish with this lesson?"

"I think he wants us to have solidarity with Artie," Rachel suggested. "It does make sense. And I'm starting to understand. It is quite a chore to wheel myself around."

Jack pursed his lips. "All because we didn't want to do a bake sale? Isn't that a little extreme?"

"Says the man who using exploding cans of shaving cream."

"Hey, that was for the benefit of the group."

"So is this when you think about it," Rachel argued. "And I know you want this group to be able to work together just as much as I do."

Jack sighed. She was right.

"All right, I get it," he said. "I'll look on the bright side. If anyone in glee are in these chairs, something funny is bound to happen. I'll use that as my happy place."

Rachel quirked an eyebrow at the blonde tenor. "You are so strange."

"It's part of my charm," he said with an arrogant grin, soon changing the subject. "And you've got one of the greatest solos of all time How does it feel?"

"I'm going to Disney Land," Rachel declared.

Jack and Rachel rolled down the hall, unaware of the fact that, in a couple of days, she would face the horror of the solo being ripped from her hands.

**0000000000**

"Now, all of you are going to judge. And everyone gets a vote. Whoever has the most, gets the part," Mr. Schuester said.

Jack and Rachel listened to the words of the teacher, unsure of how it had come down to this.

**0000000000**

_Kurt walked into the auditorium where Rachel hit the high F, Jack following behind her with an enthusiastic,_ _**"I hope you're happy…"**_

_The song ended, allowing the two divas to catch their breath. _

**"That was very good,"** _Kurt said, causing them to jump in surprise._

**"Thank you, Kurt,"** _Rachel returned to the compliment in kind._ **"I think I'll be able to win the judges at Sectionals over with it."**

**"If you're singing it,"** _Kurt said._

**"Of course she's singing it,"** _Jack interjected._ **"Mr. Schue gave it to her."**

_Kurt took a breath, a wicked smirk forming on his face. _

**"Not exactly,"** _he said._ **"You see, turns out Mr. Schue giving you the solo without allowing others audition based solely on their gender is sex discrimination. And that could lead to a rather nasty lawsuit."**

_Rachel turned to Jack. _

**"Meaning?"** _she asked. _

**"It means that tomorrow, you've got competition for the song,"** _Kurt said, turning on his heel and existing the auditorium leaving the two performers to try and find the right words for what the hell just happened._

**0000000000**

The students all sat in the room, sitting in their wheelchairs, listening closely. Rachel's eyes told the tale. She was not happy with this at all…

"This isn't going to be fair, Mr. Schuester," Rachel protested. "Let's be honest, they're all just waiting for the chance to watch me fall!"

"Ahem!" Jack cleared his throat.

"Almost all of them, I mean," Rachel corrected herself.

**0000000000**

_Jack had spent the much of his time after school observing Kurt and his father. They had a relationship that wasn't that different from him and his father. It was actually rather touching. But, there was one thing he had noticed about them. Kurt wanted to shield his father from the sorts of slings and arrows that came from having a gay son. _

**0000000000**

Kurt took the initiative, "If I may…We all know that I'm not only more popular, but dress much, much better than Rachel. That said, I want all of you to promise Rachel and myself that you're going to vote for whoever sings the song better. So…Raise your right hand."

**0000000000**

**"Whatcha doing, boy?" **_Kristopher asked early the next morning, causing Jack to jump again._

**"Why is everyone sneaking up on me today?"** _Jack screeched._

**"Sorry,"** _the old man said._ **"So, what're you doing?"**

**"Deciding whether or not I want to make a stupid decision,"** _he replied, eyeing his cell phone._

_Kristopher took a seat next to him. _**"Stop the presses, Jack Harmon just admitted to making stupid decision."**

_It did not get the reaction he expected, so he went the more direct route. _

**"What's the problem?" **

**"It use to be so easy to destroy lives when I didn't know the person,"** _Jack said._ **"Okay. Rachel…You remember me mentioning her?"**

**"You mention her every day,"** _Kristopher said._ **"For a while, I thought you were trying to make me think I was going crazy."**

**"****No, that plan is far more elaborate,"** _Jack quipped._ **"Anyway, she was given a solo. One that fits her wonderfully. Well, that pain in the ass…"**

**"****The giant? The Jew with the Mohawk? The car girl? Or the gay kid?" **

**"****Wow. I don't like many people, do I?" **

**"****No, you do not." **

**"****The gay one,"** _Jack said._ **"He and his dad went to Figgins and made them think they'd sue him for sex discrimination if Mr. Schuester didn't give him the opportunity to audition for the solo."**

**"****Okay. What's the problem?" **

**"****He doesn't deserve it." **

**"****Who are you to say that?" **

_Jack bit his lip._ **"It just doesn't feel right. You have to earn the right to audition. He did none of that. He just walked in, waving that rainbow flag around like it was a Kevlar vest. It isn't right and somebody has to say something about it."**

_Kristopher sat there for a few moments, the sounds of hums and "hmms" coming out of his mouth as he pondered his son's dilemma. _

**"****So what were you planning on doing?"** _he asked._

**"****I was gonna sabotage him, throw him off his game,"** _Jack confessed._

**"****I thought you said he couldn't be frazzled from your jokes,"** _Kristopher said._

**"****He can't be. But, what you have you always taught me about battling an enemy?"** _Jack asked._** "'Never strike at the head, strike at the heart'."** _Jack stood up from his chair and continue to expound on his plan._ **"You see, his father is very protective of his son. This action toward the glee club is just one of the things he's done. But, if I create an environment of harassment so great that that little Carson Kressley wannabe will have no choice, but to concede."**

_Jack sat back down. _

**"****So, now you see my problem?" **

**0000000000**

Everyone did. Well…except for Brittany. If only righty tighty lefty loosey could apply to all situations involving your hands.

**0000000000**

**"No, I don't,"** _Kristopher said._

**"There's a part of me that doesn't want to do it,"** _Jack explained._ **"But, there's an even bigger part of me that wants to crush him."**

_Kristopher nodded._ **"I see. You want me to tell you what to do."**

**"Yeah." **

_He stood up._

**"Jack,"** _he began,_ **"you're going to do whatever you want no matter what I tell you. But, can I leave with some advice?"** _Jack nodded._ **"If the roles were reversed, and you were in this kid's shoes, I would've done same thing his father did."**

_Kristopher readjusted his son's jacket collar and fixed his tie. _

**"You would?"** _Jack asked._

**"Yeah,"** _he said._ **"Of course, even if you were in his shoes, you'd still be the force of nature you always have been and you probably would be pissed off at me for it."**

_Kristopher turned on his heels and exited the room, leaving Jack alone to ponder his next move. _

**0000000000**

Then came swearing that the better singer would be voted for. Following that, the meeting was done and they all rolled out.

**0000000000**

Jack rolled up to the cupcake table, the wares of the glee club vanishing before his eyes.

"What in God's name happened here?" he asked.

"Nana's special recipe," the Mohawk-Jew said. "These things are selling like hotcakes…" Beat. "You know, that are cupcakes."

Jack nodded. He reached out and grabbed the last cupcake.

"You gotta pay for that," Lurch protested.

Jack flicked a nickel at the table. "I just paid."

Lurch made a move at him, but Mohawk-Jew reached out and stopped him.

"No, no, no," he said smugly. "Let him have it."

Jack took a bite of the cupcake. It was-good. Really, really good.

"What'd you think?" Jack heard the voice of Christopher Lee inquired coming from the mouth of Mercury.

Jack's eyes went wide, pushing on the throttle of his wheelchair and exiting the cafeteria. He did not see the look on Puck's face. A smile that bordered on diabolically evil genius.

**0000000000**

Will exited the school, unsure of why there was a fire truck parked in the front. He joined the crowd of onlookers, the sun obscuring his view of the flag pole.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"The fruition of my prophecy, William," the gloating voice of Sue Sylvester. "The pressure finally got to one of your glee kids."

Will squinted, finally able to make out the form clutching to the flag. It was Jack, screaming like a maniac and swinging at one of the firefighters.

"Look unto to me!" the normally bombastic singer shouted. "I have captured the flag."

The firefighter finally managed to wrestle Jack off of the pole and forced him into the basket.

"I regret NOTHING!" Jack ranted. "I have lived as few men dared to dream."

When they touched down, a van pulled up with the word 'HARMCO SECURITY' painted on the side. Will recognized it as the van that often dropped Jack off at school. A man climbed out of the driver, grabbed Jack, and lead him to the van as he continued to rant.

"Except the flag as your savior, infidels!" he shouted as the security man closed the door and the van sped off.

**0000000000**

Jack opened his eyes, unsure of whether or not the dancing bowlers doing Busby Berkley choreography had vanished. He sat up, shaking his head and looking around the room. He was in one of the staff lounges in HarmCo.

"Did I do something weird with a flag?" he groaned.

"Well, depends on what constitutes as weird," Kristopher said, entering the room. "Mind telling me what you were doing with two ounces of pot in your system?"

"I had what in me now?" Jack asked, trying to stand up.

"Two ounces of pot," his father repeated.

"How in the hell did that-" he questioned.

**0000000000**

**"****No, no, no,"** _the Mohawk-Jew said smugly._ **"Let him have it."**

**Jack took a bite of the cupcake. **

**0000000000**

"That son-of a-bitch!" Jack declared.

"Excuse me."

"That shiftless, bed-hopping, Mohawked son of a bitch!"

"I take it you're mad at a glee kid, right?" Kristopher asked glibly.

"'Nana's special recipe', my ass!" Jack exclaimed. "He put pot in the brownies, which explains why they sold so well. And why I was allowed to have one."

"Jack, Jack," Kristopher said. "Calm down. Can you calm down and tell me what you're talking about?"

"Okay," Jack said. "We had a bake sale for the glee club's bus. We weren't exactly paragons of corporate success." He rubbed his throbbing head. "Now, I'm going out on a limb on this one, but I'm pretty sure that someone in the group, a guy with a Mohawk who's name I can't remember, baked pot into the cupcakes and that was what I ate. And that is why I felt like I just went through the mind of The Dude."

Kristopher studied his son, looking for any signs that he could be lying. Jack was a lot of things, but he was never a convincing liar even as a little boy. It was ironic, he was an amazing actor, but he could never lie when it counted. And this was one of those moments.

"Okay," Kristopher said. "That's an insane story. But, somehow, I actually believe it. So, what'd you have in mind for this kid?"

"I don't have anything yet," Jack growled. "But, when I do get even with him everyone will know."

**0000000000**

Jack arrived at McKinley the following day, still a little wobbly from the day before. However, all of his swagger returned when saw the primary objective.

"Puckerman!" he snarled, getting the Mohawk-Jew's attention.

"So, you finally remembered my name."

"Yeah," Jack said. "And I don't plan on forgetting something else. I figured out how you managed to get that money from the bake sale."

"Pure skill."

"I seriously doubt that. You put pot in those brownies and you let me eat it. And I was humiliated because of that."

Mohawk-Jew smirked at him, cocking his head to the side.

"I wanted to ask you about, but I was too busy laughing to say anything."

Jack stepped back. "Just remember something. And I swear by all that is good and holy, one day, when you least expect it. Your uppance will come."

Jack stepped back, leaving the Mohawk-Jew unsure of what the egoistical balladeer meant by this threat…if it was a threat at all.

**0000000000**

Jack had finally shaken all of the cobwebs loose by the time the Diva-Off began. He sat back, knowing that Rachel had it in the bag. His contacts had told him that Hummer had hit the high F once. The likelihood of him hitting it again was high, but still there was that small chance that he wouldn't and Jack Harmon had learned a long time ago that betting on the long shot was a good move.

Rachel dazzled and Hummer surprised him, but he was planning on voting for Rachel no matter what the end results. Promises to these people meant nothing to him.

And then, it happened. Hummer threw the competition, failing to hit the high F. He tried to pass it off as not being able to hit the note, but Jack knew, all the years he's spent cultivating his own voice helped him pick up on this fact. Not that it really mattered. The song was Rachel's, as it was meant to be.

He applauded for his friend, but couldn't help but notice Hummer's disappointment out of the corner of his eye.

Jack sighed. "Can't win 'em all," he muttered to himself.

**0000000000**

_Jack sat at the table, eyeing his cell phone, the number to Hummer's father's garage on the screen. His father's words were still running through his head like a Olympic Gold Medal-winning Kenyan track team._

**"I hope you appreciate this, Hummer,"** _he said, pressing the delete button._

**0000000000**

He watched Hummer wheel over to Rachel, putting his hand out to her.

"That was a wonderful job, Rachel," he said.

This was his cue.

_"__You lost the solo," _Jack sang triumphantly, springing from the wheelchair. _"Eat it in the face!" _

He turned around to see the horrified looks on everyone's faces. Realizing that he hadn't finished the three hours in the chair, he dropped to his knees.

"Lord almighty, praise Jesus, I can walk again!" he declared dramatically.

This left one last thing to do in order for all to be right with the world.

**0000000000**

Jack was getting ready to call Lavery, the man who assisted in money transfers he didn't want his father to know about when he stopped outside of the principal's office. He heard Figgins in a jovial mood.

"And the donor gave us enough money to build ramps around the school," the accented voice of the principal declared. "It looks like you get your bus after all, William."

"That's great," Mr. Schue seemed happier than Jack had ever heard him. "The kids'll be thrilled."

"After all the work they put into it," Figgins said, "they should be. I've never seen so many students get behind a bake sale before. It was a triumph of school unity."

'If only he knew,' Jack mused, placing his phone into his pocket and walking away from the door.

0000000000

_"Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the river,"_ New Directions sang in unison, Finn piloting his wheelchair to the front. "Artie, this is for you."

_"Left a good job in the city, working for the man every night and day,"_ they sang. _"But, I never lost one minute of-"_

Jack actually found himself enjoying this number, it was pretty innovative and the group dynamic seemed stronger than ever despite the drama that seemed to proliferate it. He was sort of jealous that he hadn't thought it himself, though if he had it would've been met with scorn and called insulting. Maybe he was a little quick to judge Schuester. He'd gotten them this far, maybe he deserved a little faith.

Jack was pulled out his musings when he spotted Shore Leave and Bambi. Their breakup had been very public and very nasty, but they seemed to be patching things up.

"You two!" Jack called out, still in his motorized wheelchair, "Some time, today?"

Shore Leave and Bambi both shot him a glance before returning their sight to each other and speaking at the same second, "Be right there, Jack-Ass!"

'Still no respect,' he thought. 'They'll learn it eventually.'

**0000000000**

**A/N: Another chapter in the bag…or in the file…or something. I'm not what you call a finished chapter besides a finished chapter. I hope you guys enjoy reading. I suddenly feel revitalized. I just hope it lasts past the week.**

**I bet you guys thought that I was going make Jack the one who made the phone call to Burt. I'll be honest, I was tempted. But, then I thought, he's not entirely heartless. Plus, I knew this would be the one thing you'd never forgive for doing. I can get away with a lot with his character, but even I'd have a hard time making him smypathetic if he had done that.**

**As I've said before, feedback is a must for me. So, get it out there.**

**Good morning, good afternoon, good night, and good luck.**

**Signed  
****Soulless Warlock**


	5. Hairography

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

**0000000000**

**'One thing that can be said about Mr. Schuester, he's seems obsessed with the idea of playing fair.'**

**0000000000**

**"Mr. Schuester,"** _Jack suggested only three days earlier, _**"I was thinking-"**

**"No, Jack,"** _Mr. Schue said._ **"We can't spy on the competition, that wouldn't be fair."**

**0000000000**

**'And it's not to say that I don't respect that opinion.'**

**0000000000**

**"I have no respect for that opinion,"** _Jack commented to Rachel as they exited the music room._

**0000000000**

**'That all said, I decided I was going to tell him that I was planning on scoping out the competition.' **

Jack sat outside of the Jane Addams Academy; the girls were passable at best. They had made to Regionals three years in a row definitely said something. He watched them perform _Single Ladies_, their movements synced up in perfect unison But, there was something off about the performance. Jack couldn't put his finger on it, but he could feel it in his bones that there was something amiss with these girls.

**0000000000**

Jack was planning on going to Haverbrook, but decided against it. They were a deaf show choir, which, in and of itself is really oxymoronic, and their director remembered him of half-deaf Brick Tamlund from _Anchorman_. So, all together, he was in no mood to be annoyed by no talents hacks that thought they deserved to be in the same league as him.

To be honest, he had more important things to worry about. Well, more important to Rachel, so it was, by extension, important to him. So, he wasn't surprised that she was the only person in the music room by the time he reached the school.

"Jack, I'm glad you got my text," Rachel greeted.

"You're the only other person who texts me," Jack said. "I mean, you text, I come running."

"That's what I need right now."

Rachel opened the scrapbook she had sitting on her lap.

"When'd you make that?"

"I started it after our Invitational," Rachel explained. "I've been snapping pictures with my camera phone here and there since that night."

She turned a page and they were show a blown-up photo of Mitchell's shrine. Jack looked at it, finally understanding why she wanted to see him. Only weeks earlier, Mitchell had been forced out of New Directions at the hands of Sue Sylvester's underhanded, yet brilliant, manipulation of Mitchell's parents. He had even been pulled out of the English class they shared together. Not that Jack noticed. Or cared.

"We have to get Mitchell back," Rachel said. "I don't know what it is, but since he's been gone, we've all lacked something. Something important for Glee."

Jack sighed, he knew she was right.

**0000000000**

_Only a few days ago, the entire group was rehearsing and they lacked the same spark they had had only few weeks earlier. Jack didn't want to mention it, but everyone noticed it. Finn messed up the combination and went stumbling forward. _

**"Damn it, Bambi,"** _Jack shouted._ **"It's two-three-kick-turn-turn-kick-turn!"**

_Their inquisitive looks turned to Jack when they suddenly realized that he had called Finn by the wrong nickname. _

**"What's everyone staring at?"** _he asked._

**"You called me 'Bambi',"** _Finn stated._

**"No I didn't,"** _Jack argued._

**"Dude, we heard you say it,"** _Puck countered._

**"So what if I did?"** _Jack asked._ **"It's a force of habit."**

**"Guys,"** _Mr. Schue interjected._ **"I know you all miss Mitchell, but…"**

_Quinn quickly cut the teacher off,_ **"We know, Mr. Schuester. It's just…it doesn't feel right without him."**

**"I've grown accustomed to yelling at him for other people's mistakes,"** _Jack added. _**"It's hard to yell at Theorist." **

**"I miss the fact that he put up with all of us," **_Artie said._

_Tina nodded._** "That was quite the feat." **

**0000000000**

Though he would never say it, Bambi had a gift for keeping the group glued together. Jack had no idea how he did it, but his very mediocrity seemed to symbolize the group.

"I agree," Jack said. "I take it you have a plan."

"Do you even have to ask?" Rachel asserted. "I figure since our solo plans fail, a joint project will be just what the doctor ordered."

Jack's sinister grin returned, he knew that he liked this girl for more than her talent.

**0000000000**

"Jack, what the hell are you doing?" Kurt inquired as Jack continued to drill the piano to the auditorium floor.

"Nailing down the valuables," he replied. "I have a hard enough time looking at them when," his voice dropped in volume, "they are in the room."

Kurt turned and looked at Matt and Mercedes.

"Oh, that is so wrong," Kurt said.

Jack's ears perked up as he reached into his pocket and tossed a chain to Kurt.

"What is this for?" he asked, almost afraid of what the response would be.

"Put your wallet on it," answered Jack. "Unless you have a purse. If you do, keep that in your sight at all times."

Kurt's eyes went wide again. "Jack. Do you honestly believe that those girls are going to come into our school and steal from us?"

"Why'd you think they're in Jane Addams," the taller boy asked, "for the matching outfits and female bonding? I'm taking this as a precaution and your gay, liberal guilt will not dissuade me from taking the necessary actions to keep our stuff in this school," Jack moved to the door, as Mr. Schue had instructed them to be at when the Jane Addams girls arrived. "And if you can't grasp the concept of security, then give me back the chain."

Jack snatched the chain out of Kurt's hand and they reached the door. When the two exited the room, they were just in time to hear the JA Glee club's director tell one of her girls: "Give Mr. Schuester his wallet back."

One of the more surly looking girls approached the Spanish teacher, returning his wallet to him. Mr. Schue seemed flabbergasted that she was able to lift his wallet while she was shaking his hand.

Jack turned to Kurt, giving him an "I told you so" look as he held the chain up. He passed them out to the rest of the glee club as the Jane Addams girls hit the stage with their performance of Destiny's Child's _Bootylicious_.

As they had before, they did little to impress him. They seemed to put more emphasis on movement than vocalization. Everyone knew that any good choir, or well-rounded performer for that matter, could combine the two, but they seemed to be going for full-on sex appeal.

Jack watched them bring the number home and chose not to applaud with the others, this indignant number was not worth his applause or his time. He moved to the exit, noticing that Rachel wasn't shadowing as they had grown accustomed to doing for the last couple of months. She was talking to Mr. Schuester. This was a good sign, maybe she could convey that they didn't have to worry about the Jane Addams Academy. He always had a tendency to come on a little strong, so Rachel was the wiser choice.

**0000000000**

He got his answer the following day when Mr. Schue announced that they would be performing the title song from _Hair_. This came at the moment that Jack was enjoying his mineral water treatments, slurping away through a straw. A straw that ended up going halfway down his throat, so he missed out on the fact that the glee director was handing out wigs to the guys.

By the time, he dislodged the straw from his throat, he and Rachel pulled Mr. Schuster to the piano.

"What are you doing," Time to whip out the strong face, "make us look desperate?"

"He is right, Mr. Schuester," Rachel added. "This is unnecessary. We're fine the way we are. Hairography would only serve a distraction."

Mr. Schue nodded. "Look, the Jane Addams girls really got into my head. If want to win this, we have got to pull out all stops."

"Agreed." Jack said. "But, I've told you before…"

"We're not sabotaging them." Damn, how did he know?

**'Mostly cause you suggest it every time you talk to him.'**

**'Oh, shut up voice in my head. You're not there when I talk to him.'**

**'Dude, I'm you. I'm with you all the time.' **

**0000000000**

**"Mr. Schuester,"** _Jack raised his hands, just a few weeks ago, getting the Spanish teacher's attention._ **"I was thinking about our competition. Just yesterday, I managed to acquire a jar of-"**

**"We're not sabotaging them." **

**0000000000**

_A few days earlier…_

**"Mr. Schue,"** _Jack called out as they passed each other in the hallway._ **"It's good that I caught you. I had an idea. One that involves fireworks and-"**

**"We're not sabotaging them!" **

**0000000000**

_And, of course, there was this morning…_

**"Mr. Schue?" **

**"We're not sabotaging them!" **

**0000000000**

That left only one viable option to stop this monstrosity and Jack was cringing over what he was planning to do. And fast. The moment Jack turned around, he saw the wigs the guys had chosen for the number. Curse the judge for barring the live ammunition until he turned 23.

**0000000000**

He walked into Coach Sylvester's office, the door had been unlocked but the room was unoccupied.

'Must be out drinking the blood of virgins,' Jack mused.

He scanned the room, walking over to Sylvester's chair.

"If this isn't the entrance to the gates of hell," he said, plopping down in the chair.

Jack began to convulse and shake, his eyes rolling up in the back of his head.

"The power of Satan compels you," he screeched in a deep bass voice, a complete 360 from his actual voice.

Jack flung himself out of the chair and onto the floor, taking deep healing breaths.

"What the hell was that?" he asked out loud.

He wiped his brow and got his feet as Sylvester entered her office. She looked at Jack, as if trying to remember who he was.

"Oh, it's you Stonehenge," she said arrogantly. "What brings you here?"

"Well, it's not by choice," Jack said. "It's by necessity. You're still the fine arts director, am I correct?"

"Yeah," Sylvester said, her smug expression never leaving her face.

"Okay," Jack said, taking a seat.

"Excuse me," she spoke up. "Did I ask you sit down?"

"No," Jack countered, "but, when in an office, it goes without saying."

"I don't let students sit," Sylvester said. "It ruins your posture. And four out of five scientists have agreed that that increases the odds of criminal activity in the future. And I've learned through experience that you albinos have the highest criminal records of them all."

Jack's expression didn't change. "I'm going to ignore that one," he said. "I'm here because of one thing. I like to win."

"Aside from the Cheerios in the glee club, you might be the only member of that group of bi-curious mouth-breathers that thinks that way."

"We all think that way," Jack said. "Some of us are more vocal about it. I happen to be one of those people."

"With that attitude, you could win," she said. "So, why are you here?"

"I'm here because, as stated, you are the fine arts director." Jack paused, looking as though he was about to hack up a hairball. "Hey, no vomit."

"Is conversation going anywhere?" the Cheerio coach asked. "Because your giant Easter Island head is knocking out the natural light that comes in through those windows."

"I thought your kind didn't like the light?" Jack fired back.

"Do I make fun of you?" Sylvester asked. "I'm serious though. Why are you here?"

"As the fine arts director, I would assume that it's your responsibility to make sure that the fine arts of this school are at optimum efficiency."

The coach shrugged. "I never really read the fine print. I absorb the information via osmosis."

"That doesn't surprise me," Jack muttered. "But, one would believe that would be your duty?"

"Lets go with that," Sylvester finally agreed.

"Good," Jack said, his inner self wishing that he had a gun. "Because I'd like to file a protest against an affront to the arts."

Coach Sylvester seemed to smile wickedly. "Speak, Stonehenge."

'Finally,' he thought and proceeded to tell Sue what Mr. Schuester was doing with the glee club.

**0000000000**

Jack watched Rachel as she shifted uncomfortably. Much like him, she was not happy about how Sue's actions had forced Mitchell out of New Directions. Of course, she hadn't made a pact with the Florence Henderson clone from Hell, but he wasn't going to mention that to her and any member of New Directions for that matter.

Mitchell's absence had, as mentioned earlier, thrown everyone off of their game. Jack's little accident at the rehearsal had been his only mistake. And he knew that he had to let go of the fact that he had lost one of their number and move one.

"Everyone sit down," Rachel said, bringing the emergency meeting to order. "We need to talk."

Puck scoffed, taking a seat, "We need to make a rule that only Mr. Schuester can call meetings."

"Noah, I'm serious," Rachel said. "This is important."

"If this is heading in the direction I'm assuming it is," Jack spoke up, "then I agree with the importance."

"Is it really necessary to follow her like a puppy dog?" Finn asked, getting Jack's attention.

"Excuse me?" Jack questioned.

"It's really annoying," Finn stated. "Every damn thing she says, you're right there agreeing with her."

_"Mitchell_," Quinn managed to get everyone focused on the matter at hand. "Let's focus on him. We're not the same without him."

The Pregnoid was right.

"You weren't the same without me and you moved along just fine," Rachel added, Jack reading her expression. She was still hurt by this little fact.

"That wasn't the same," Quinn argued. "To be honest, if Mitchell was gone and you weren't, we would have gotten along just fine."

"So," Rachel asked, "if I was to walk out that door right now, you would all be heartbroken to see me leave?"

_"I would_," Jack and Finn said in unison.

Finn and Jack tossed glares at one another.

**'You've got a woman!'** Jack's mental self snapped.

"I'm not sure," Kurt added.

"It would be quieter," Brittany's contributed.

"A lot quieter, actually," Santana thought aloud. "Damn, why couldn't Coach Sylvester talk to your dads instead?"

Puck scoffed, head going back, eyes to the ceiling for a moment, "This officially sucks!"

"Someone's in a bad mood," Artie mumbled.

"Who?" Brittany asked.

"This is just so stupid," Puck stood up. "Mitchell's gone. Okay? Let's move on. There's no point in stressing about things we can't change."

"You're just pissed because you don't wanna be here," Finn pointed out.

"Damn right, I don't," Puck said, confirming it.

"Look at us," Mercedes jumped in. "All we're doing is either going in circles or getting distracted. I have to agree with what Puck said, even though he didn't actually mean it. Mitchell's gone, guys. Like Rachel said before, we have to move on."

Jack sighed. For people who weren't memorable enough for him to even remember their names, they made a lot of sense. Still, Jack knew Rachel wasn't going to give up and neither was he.

**0000000000**

Jack was supposed to meet with Rachel that day to discuss what they were going to do to convince Mitchell's parents to let him back in New Directions. Unfortunately, she had been sidetracked by something else entirely. Hummer had offered to give her a makeover. This left Jack with no one to talk to since he befriended Rachel.

He sighed as he began to ponder if his plan would actually work. He didn't have to wait long as he would get his answers the next day.

**0000000000**

He also got the answer about Rachel's makeover when she strutted into the hallway of the school, wearing a black cocktail dress. Jack's jaw dropped as she began to flirt with Finn, offering him the chance to work on hairography on Friday. Jack turned away from the scene, unsure of how to react. And, as he tried to figure out what he was going to say to Rachel, he turned around and walked face first into an open locker. Jack fell backwards, hitting his head off of the floor.

"Jack," Rachel asked, "are you okay?"

Jack's eyes fluttered open, the pain in the back of his head centering across the top of his head. He shook his head once, feeling his vision return. Jack-O-Vision, it was like Terminator Vision with a Jack Harmon twist.

**System rebooting.**

The beeping sound rang in Jack's ears.

**System configuring. **

Jack scanned the area, the room now red. The focus point of his vision started to move about, trying to

**Name: Rachel Berry. Race: Barbaras Streisanacas**.

He craned his head toward Finn, who was standing next to Rachel.

**Name: Apache Chief. Race: Giantus Annoyingtus.**

Jack stood up, shaking his head again. He saw Quinn and Puck: **Name: Pregnoid. Race: Pregnancous WASP-ess** and **Name: Mohawk-Jew. Race: Unknown. **

The Terminator Vision shut down and his original vision returned. He looked over at Rachel.

"What the hell are you almost wearing?" Jack practically screeched, quickly pulling off his jacket and wrapping it around Rachel.

Rachel pushed the jacket off of her shoulders.

"I'm trying something new," Rachel said.

Jack raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to Finn.

"Ah," he said. "I get it."

"Get what?"

"You're slutting yourself up for him," Jack stated bluntly. "Going Sandra Dee on us for Danny Zuko over there. Can I say something about this? You can do better."

"Jack," Rachel interrupted him. "You don't understand. The minute Finn and I sang together, I knew we were meant to be together. I want to be the kind of girl he likes. And I would hope as my friend, you would accept that."

Jack arched an eyebrow. He must've been hearing things when Finn said that he liked wholesome girls. Of course, he didn't really pay that much attention to him when he spoke anyways.

Jack nodded. "I can do that," he said. "Do I have to like it, though?"

"Not really," she said. "But, we happy for me if that day comes."

Jack picked up his suit jack as he and Rachel made their way to their first class of the day.

**0000000000**

At Glee rehearsal, Mr. Schue decided that it would be best if the Theorist gave them a demonstration of hairography. And Jack had to agree, it did look like cool epilepsy…without the cool part. Jack stood there, the wig that had been given to him affixed on his head covering hair that he had deemed years ago to be perfect. He had, moments earlier, sent a text to Coach Sylvester. The only reason she gave him the number was because she planned to change the moment they completed their mission. Not like he wanted her number anyways. Though that would make prank calls a lot more interesting.

The rehearsals came to a grinding halt when Mr. Schuester spotted Coach Sylvester outside of the hall and confronted her about the fact that she was spying on the club. The argument quickly switched gears as she accused Will of not believing in his students enough to let them use their natural talents.

Mr. Schuester reentered the music room, trying his best to shake off how angry he was at the always-arrogant cheerleading coach.

"From the top," he growled.

They were about to start when Mr. Schuester looked at Jack.

"Except for you," he said to the blonde tenor. "I wanna talk to you after rehearsals."

**'Way to go, dumbass!'**

**'Shut up, you were in on it too.' **

**0000000000**

"How could you go to Sue?" Mr. Schuester asked when everyone had filed out the music room. "You know better than anyone that she wants to destroy the glee club."

"Aware," Jack said. "But this has nothing to do with it."

"It has everything to do with it," Mr. Schuester argued. "We have pull out all the stops to win."

"I already suggested how we can win," Jack said, quickly raising his hand to silence his teacher. "We can win at Sectionals," Jack said, "without sabotage. And without fake theatrics." He stood up from his chair. "Mr. Schue, I understand you're worried. I'm worried too." Her shrugged. "Believe it or not, but I've had some crisis of confidence in the past."

Mr. Schue looked at Jack, an eyebrow arched.

"Really?" the Spanish teacher asked, a light-hearted tone in his voice.

"I said, 'believe it or not'," Jack said. "I would try everything to notch my game, I mean, I tried hairography, I tried dressing like Salvador Dali, which was fun, but, in the end, I was came back to the one thing that never let me down: My voice." Mr. Schue's expression seemed to change. Maybe Jack was right about, maybe Sue was right. And I've got too many trophies to count because of that. I want to add one more to my shelf," Jack stated. "But, you are the one in charge, I will try to trust your judgment in the future."

Mr. Schue watched Jack move toward the door.

"I'll seat this out," Jack said. "If that's what you want?"

Mr. Schuester sighed. "I don't want that. But, I do want something from you. Jack, you're one of the most talented kids in this club. But, I can't have you going behind my back like this. We're all in this together, right?"

Jack nodded.

"Then, if there's a problem, we need work together to fix it," he said. "Got it?"

"Yeah. I got it."

"Alright. Now get outta here, before you say something makes me change my mind," Mr. Schue threatened good-naturedly.

**0000000000**

That Monday, New Directions was forced to go head to head with the Haverbrook choir. Jack, however, was more concerned by the fact that he hadn't been able to get a hold of Rachel since Friday. She always answered him when he called. He had wanted to go to check on her, but he recalled the ban that her fathers had put on him. Was it really his fault they reminded him of Eugene Levy and Samuel L. Jackson?

Jack found his friend in the music, sitting at the piano. She wasn't crying, but her body language conveyed that the date had not gone well…and she was back to her normal wardrobe, which confirmed that the date went bust.

"Hey there, Funny Girl," Jack said, getting her attention. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that, uh, the date was a disaster."

"It's worse than that," Rachel said. "I got set up and I was made to look like a fool."

"What did he do?" Jack growled.

"Finn didn't do anything," Rachel said quickly. "It was Kurt. He made me up to look like a hooker because it was what I thought wanted."

"Why would he do that?" Jack asked. "I mean, besides the fact he's kind of a dick."

"He wants Finn too," Rachel confessed, looking up when she heard Jack begin to snicker. "It's not funny."

"The hell it's not," Jack laughed. "Did you put him in his place?"

"Yeah," Rachel said. "But, he…he made me realize something. I have about as much chance with Finn as he does. He's with Quinn. He loves her and they're having a baby. What was I thinking?"

Jack shrugged. "Honestly, I have no clue," he admitted, turning the stool around so she could look at him. "But, I have to say this, he doesn't know what he's missing."

Rachel smiled, her hand caressing Jack's face.

"No, he doesn't," she asserted in that indomitable Rachel Berry.

**0000000000**

The performance of _Hair's_ title song went rather well, but that wasn't what Jack was concerned with. He was worried about what would happen when the kids from Haverbrook sang…well, if you want to call signing singing. Would he start laughing at him? He caught enough crap from the ACLU for his treatment of quadriplegics, he was in no mood to add the deaf to the growing list of people who wanted to sue him.

The lead began to sign the song and speak-sing the words. Jack almost sucked his lips into his mouth, trying to keep himself from exploding. They were singing _Imagine_. One of the crappiest songs on Planet Earth. That dilweed John Lennon spoke about peace and love, but never stopped to think about what would happen if aliens invaded or zombies began to take over. The Pepsi commercial hand-holding would not save them if that happened.

'John Lennon can suck Buddha's cock,' Jack's mental self commented bitterly.

But, to his surprise, everyone in New Directions joined in with the other choir. The scene was, well, if he could feel, heartwarming. The two choirs were showing that, even in competition, they were capable of working together to bring out the music they all had in their hearts.

However, Mr. Harmon did not approve of this scene. He found it touching, but he couldn't shake one feeling.

"I feel so uncomfortable." That's what it was. "Really, really, uncomfortable." Jack added once he was sure the deaf students were gone. The last time he had insulted a deaf person, he ended up with getting kicked in the face. Who knew being deaf gave you ninja powers?

Mr. Schue, on the other hand, was smiling and seemed as though his confidence in the group had been restored.

"I am so proud of you guys. Not only was it a nice gesture, but it was just really great. Not to mention, you all did a good job."

Everyone started gathering their things, ready to call it a day, when Rachel and Jack walked to the head of the room. Well, Jack was kind of being pulled along by Rachel. But, still...

"I have something that I'd like to share with all of you." Rachel announced with a bright smile.

"Herpes?" Santana's asked

"No," Rachel shook her head. "Not herpes."

"Why would you even answer that?" Puck cringed.

"You two are dating?" Kurt asked, looking at Jack and Rachel.

"Wait, yeah," Quinn added her two cents. "You two have been inseparable for a long time now."

"Basically ever since they met." Kurt followed.

Finn seemed

"Their name could be Rack." Brittany snickered.

"Get control of 'em," Jack whispered.

"It's about Mitchell," Rachel spoke up. "I had an idea, and I've asked Jack to help me. But..."

"Well, naturally you'd ask him first," Artie interjected. "Considering the two of you are dating."

This was actually rather amusing.

"We're not dating!"

Those words quickly knocked Jack out his amusement. A fact made worse by the look on Finn's face. Jack was actually surprised by the fact that he felt a sharp little pain in his chest. Fleeting and faint, but still there.

"I know how we can convince Mitchell's parents to let him back into glee club," Rachel explained.

"I thought you were all for moving on without him?" Quinn was a little confused.

"I saw him in the hall a couple days ago," she recalled. "He looked… lost. I remember how lost I felt and how I was hoping every night that one of you would save me. I want to do that for Mitchell."

"That's a great idea, Rachel," concurred Mr. Schuester. "But, his parents are pretty set in their decision."

"Yeah, how are we supposed to change their minds?" Finn wondered aloud.

"The only way that we know how." Rachel said with a smile.

**0000000000**

Jack stepped into the hall as Finn and Quinn as they embraced, Quinn asking if they could be in love again. Jack craned his head around see Rachel watching the scene unfold. She was hurt, but still waved at him and Kurt, who stood only a few feet away from him. Jack turned to face Kurt, a heat-vision glared bearing down on the fashion-conscious contralto. The look that said, "I'm gonan get you, sucka!"

**0000000000**

"I think we can all approve on this one," Mr. Schuester said, handing out the sheet music. "No fake theatrics, no hairography. Just our voices."

Rachel smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Schue."

"Okay, from the top everyone," the glee coach commanded as the music began to play.

_"You with those sad eyes,"_ Tina sang, _"__don't be discouraged, oh I realize, it's hard to take courage. In a world full of people, you can lose sight of it all, and the darkness inside you can make you feel so small."_

The choir entered the song, _**"But I see your true colors shining through," **_Jack shared a smile with Rachel, who seemed just as concered with Finn and Quinn's reconciliation as she was with the song. Things seemed to be looking up for the group._** "I see your true colors and that's why I love you." **_The hairography was gone and, if they played their cards right, the group would be one again. _**"So don't be afraid to let them show your true colors-" **_Jack's head moved around the stage, trying to get a good look at all the members of the club,_** "true colors are beautiful like a rainbow."**_

The glee clubbers repeated the refrain as Jack began to notice that they sounded better than they had in days. He could only help but wonder what would when they were all back together. By then, they would be unstoppable.

_"Your true colors, true colors are beautiful like a rainbow," _Tina sang with finality as the music faded out.

Jack closed his eyes. They were on their way.

**0000000000**

**A/N: Wow! It took some time, but I finished the chapter. I really hope you guys enjoy reading it. As I've said before, feedback is a must for me. So, get it out there.**

**I especially enjoy hearing what you guys think about Jack. I mean, he is the lead character in this story, so I'd love hear what you think of him and the story as a whole. Because, like Ric Flair says, whether you like or you don't, you better learn to love it, cause it's the best going. **

**So, in closing, I just want to say: Good morning, good afternoon, good night, and good luck.**

**Signed**  
**Soulless Warlock**


	6. Mattress

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

**0000000000**

Jack entered McKinley High feeling like he had just won a Tony Award, an Emmy, a Grammy, and an Oscar all in the same night. But, not a Golden Globe award. Screw those people; they didn't even bother to come up with another name for the award. And why wouldn't he be excited? Sectionals was only a few weeks away and the glee club was hoping on all cylinders. And, if he played his cards right, the glee club would be whole just in time for the competition.

On top of that, he had learned that the glee club would not be getting their picture in the Thunderclap. And who calls a yearbook the _Thunderclap_? Admittedly, it was prime advertising for what one could get for sleeping with any of the Cheerios, but seriously, this school had no dignity to begin with, did the rest of the world really need another reason to laugh at McKinley?

But, I digress, why was he, a guy who once dressed up like Salvador Dali to get as much attention as humanly possible, and use the remains of the wax mustache makeup from a failed attempt at turning _Spellbound_ into a musical, not want to have the glee club get as much attention as it could? There was an answer for that.

The year prior, Jack had been the victim of a rather nasty libel in the _Thunderclap_. Comparisons to Clay Aiken and Ricky Martin were the more clever remarks, but he had bristled at the unnecessary comments about the size of his head, his sexuality, and his performing skills. And not the ones of a musical variety. Jack was always good at taking criticism, but snide criticism never helped the world. Hell, it's the reason most Americans didn't vote.

So, in essence, him appearing in the _Thunderclap_ would be un-American. And, should his career as a country western singer ever take off, he would lose his fan base for not defending the country.

To make a long, rambling thought process short, Jack had no intention of getting in the Thunderclap at all this year or any year. He had had his student pictures taken earlier in the year and paid good money to keep them out of the yearbook.

And he thanked God, Buhhda, and Xenu that wouldn't be in it this year either.

**0000000000**

That good mood stayed until Mr. Schuester appeared in the music room.

"Hey, guys, great news." They were finally using some of his ideas? "Glee Club gets a photo in the _Thunderclap_."

'Oh, shit!'

'This is not good.'

'Oh, gee. Ya' think?'

Jack placed his guitar back into its case and pulled out his earplugs. Fastening them in, he missed Mr. Schue's announcement that they only had a quarter-page and they would be selecting captains to appear in the picture.

'One question? How come every time you get mad, you yell at me like I'm somebody else? Dude, I'm you. We live in the same body.'

'Do we have to have this conversation now?'

'Yes! It's not like we're paying attention to Schuester.'

'Beside the point. We are not having this conversation right now.' Jack fired back with finality, suddenly realizing that Rachel was looking at him and that she would be counting on him to help with the picture. 'Damn my inability to tell her 'no'.'

'We need to find a way out of this future biggest celebrity oops.'

'I agree.'

**0000000000**

Before Rachel could say a word, Jack had vanished from sight. And he had managed to trump the topic of captaincy by making a quick reference to the fact that they were producing a _Spider-Man_ musical. That opened up another can of worms altogether, but it got him out of having to have that conversation.

It wasn't until she had been elected captain did the marathon begin. Luckily for the always energetic performer, he had a first place ribbon in crazy escapes. And that victory would be put to the test in the next couple of days.

**0000000000**

When she went after Mercedes, who quickly countered with the Kwanzaa defense, though Rachel was not easily fooled. While this was going on, Jack was able to slip into his locker as he was only five feet away from the scene, hoping that she didn't spot him

**0000000000**

Flash-forward to the next day, Rachel are cornered Artie, Jack surprised everyone in the hall by dropping a gas-ball in the hall and using the smoke to vanish into thin air. And, by thin air, I mean he found an open door to dive into.

**0000000000**

Brittany was next on Rachel's list. She was walking down the hall, stating she was deface the picture if it ended up in the Thunderclap. Rachel didn't see Jack as he had placed on an Austin Powers wig and hid his face from her before sneaking on board the elevator that carried television equipment to the third floor. How did he get in, you ask? Well, that's why God invented skeleton keys.

**0000000000**

Needless to say that by the time Saturday morning they planned to get Mitchell back, Rachel had barely said two words to him outside of Glee Club.

'Maybe we should explain.'

'What that we're cowards?'

'No, just that the _Thunderclap_ and us don't go together.'

'Tell the truth?'

'Yeah. No one will ever see that coming.'

Jack leapt out of the HarmCo van and joined up with New Directions, most of whom had been rather bitchy about having to be here on a Saturday morning

The best time of day to catch Mitchell's parents before they went off to do whatever it is they did. At least that's what Santana had told them in their latest emergency meeting. This was their one shot at getting the group back together as one.

"Jack," Rachel said briskly, "did you bring the megaphone?"

Jack reached into his duffel and pulled out the requested item.

Mitchell made an appearance at the window. He seemed surprised, shocked. Stunned, even. "MASON FAMILY!" Rachel shouted through a megaphone, "WE ARE NEW DIRECTIONS AND WE WOULD LIKE TO PERFORM A SONG FOR YOU!"

Rachel turned to her fellow members, everyone standing in their positions, and it was time to begin. The music started and everyone kicked into gear, singing together for the opening…

_**"**__**There's no business like show business**_**,**_**"**_ they sang loudly, Rachel tossing the megaphone away on the first note, which it landed in Artie's lap, _**"**__**like no business we know!"**_

Mitchell appeared outside, his fawn eyes glued on the performance in front of him.

Rachel took the lead, smiling at Mitchell brightly, _"__Everything about it is appealing. Everything that traffic will allow. Nowhere could you get that happy feeling, when you are stealing an extra bow.__"_

Everyone chorused together, _**"**__**There's no people like show people, they smile when they are low!**__**"**_

Mitchell's parental units came outside, standing on the front porch just watching in silence.

Kurt took over, _"__Yesterday they told you, 'you would not go far'. That night you open and there you are. Next day on your dressing room, they've hung a star. Let's go on with the show…__"_

"The costumes, the scenery, the make-up, the props,"Santana added.

**"****The audience that lifts you when you're down,****" **Quinn sang as Finn and Puck held her up on their shoulders.

**"The headaches, the heartaches, the backaches, the flops," **Brittany gave each move a try and came up short on each one.

_"__The sheriff who'll escort you out of town,__" _Puck sang. Appropriate for him.

_**"**__**The opening when your heart beats like a drum,**__**" **_Finn sang.

_"The closing when the customers don't come…" _Rachel took over the song again.

"NOT FOR NEW DIRECTIONS!" Artie added through the megaphone.

_**"**__**There's no business like show business like no business we know,**__**" **_everyone chorused.

It was his turn at last, time to show the amateurs how it was really done.

_"__You get the word before the show has started,__" _Jack sang in his best Jerry Orbach impression, sliding into his natural sound, _"__that your favorite uncle died at dawn. And top of that, your ma and pa have parted, you're broken-hearted, but you go on.__"_

_**"There's no people like show people,**__**"**_ the dance section of the performance began, everyone showing off their new moves, _**"**__**they smile when they are low. Even with a turkey that you know will fold. You may be stranded out in the cold. Still you wouldn't change it for a sack of gold…"**_

"I would!" Puck predictably stated.

Mercedes entered the scene for the big finish, letting that last note linger, **"****Let's…Go on…With the…Show!****"**

"Mr. and Mrs. Mason," Rachel and Jack stepped forward, though Rachel took an extra one closer, "We all realize that you both believe that taking Mitchell out of Glee is going to help him. But, we politely disagree with that. You've been deceived by Coach Sue Sylvester."

"Yeah," Finn and Puck, Quinn in-between them, "She's been competing with Mr. Schuester for more money on the budgets."

"Mitchell means a lot to us," the friendly ports of the group interjected, "I mean…the glee club. We miss having him around, and it's obvious he misses us, too. Especially me."

Bambi's parents listened to every word. At least, the Glee Club was praying that they did.

"It's obvious," Mitchell's father observed, "That Mitchell means as much to you, as you do to him."

As if the musical number on the front lawn didn't tell you that already.

"But-"

'Oh, shit! This is not good.'

"I'm sorry. We're standing by our decision. Mitchell's grades have already improved, as has his behavior in school."

"That isn't fair!" Rachel took a stand, "You're willing to sacrifice your own son's happiness? Just for good grades? Just for…"

"The song was lovely," his mother spoke. "You are all very talented. You should be proud of yourselves. The decision is final, though."

New Directions were frozen in place as the three disappeared into the house, stunned beyond belief. They didn't even register the sound of their friend slamming a door.

**0000000000**

Saturday night, Jack noticed that Rachel had sent him a text: She wanted to meet in the next 20 minutes. Her dads were dropping her off, considering that Jack was still sort of banned from their house.

'Great,' he drawled mentally, getting up from his piano and shutting off the three screens in the entertainment center of the room. 'I am so looking forward to this conversation.'

'Just remember what we talked about. Tell her why you can't be in the picture and leave it at that.'

'Okay, but she hits me, I'm blaming you.'

'Dude, we've been over this before, you'd be blaming yourself.'

'Don't start with me.'

Jack climbed the steps to the kitchen. His father was out of town on business, so he had the run of the house. He poured himself a glass of sparkling cider and prepared another glass for Rachel, this one could take awhile.

He took a seat in the living room when there was a knock at the door. Jack walked to the door, opening to see Rachel in front of him.

"So, you're talking to me again?" he queried.

"That depends," Rachel said. "May I come in?"

"Certainly," Jack stepped to the side, allowing her to enter. "Rachel. I have something I have to tell you."

"You don't want to be my friend anymore," it was more of a statement than a question.

For the first time in years, Jack actually started sputtering. "Wait-What?"

"You've been avoiding me," reminded Rachel. "Ducking out on me when I needed you. I'm still sort of new at this friend thing," she was starting to ramble, "but I know when I'm not wanted. So, I don't want you to worry about me. Go on-"

Jack threw his hand over her mouth. "Rachel," he said, moving her head up so they made eye contact, "it's not that." He loosened his grip on her mouth. "Are you done rambling?" she nodded. "Okay."

He released her from his clutches. "Let me explain. I've been avoiding, yes, that's true. But, I have a reason."

Rachel folded her arms. "And what is that?"

"I have no desire whatsoever to appear in the _Thunderclap_. With you or without you."

He took a breath.

"Wow, the truth is surprisingly easy. I think I'm going to tell everyone the truth from now on."

"Well, why don't you want to be in the picture?" Rachel asked.

Jack shrugged. "Okay. I'm not too big on getting my picture defaced. In fact, I don't take that kind of criticism well. It makes me angry. And me angry means bad things happen to other people."

"You take criticism extremely well," Rachel asserted. "You handled yourself with Sandy exceptionally well."

"Oh, no, I take it well. But, this is not ordinary criticism," he explained. "You know, the kind that borders on harassment, but no one can do anything cause 'kids will be kids'. And I've only got so many paintballs to use on those people, so I figured it wasn't worth dealing with. You're in the same boat as me."

Rachel nodded. "But, I don't let it stop me from showing my face and telling them all I was here."

"I do that already," Jack said with a smirk. "My pranks are legendary."

"But yearbook pictures are concrete shows." There was a pause. "Except for that 10-foot tall statue of James Dean that you dropped on the football team's bus."

"The most concrete statement of them all."

"See, you're not afraid of anything, are you?"

"No, I am not."

Rachel smiled. "Prove it."

Jack sighed. "I don't know."

"How about this?" Rachel asked. "I've already got Finn to join up for the picture."

She had done what now?

"Why don't you come for emotional and logistical support?"

Jack tilted his head. "I can do that."

"Good," Rachel said, throwing her arms around him. "And another thing. Next time, just tell me the truth. I won't get mad. You don't have to do everything that I do."

"Good," he said. "Cause these panties are really cutting off my circulation."

Jack heard Rachel laugh; a clear sign that things were back to normal. Now, if only their other mission had succeeded.

**0000000000**

Despite the fact that he and Rachel had reconciled, by the time Monday morning rolled around, and New Directions were still walking in a fog. Jack was even affected by the failure of their mission.

"I can't believe it didn't work," Kurt said, slumping into his chair.

"Have those people no taste?" Jack finally exploded. He had failed and there was no excuse. "No respect for song? Didn't they ever watch a movie once in their lives? This isn't a happy ending."

"We failed, Rachel pouted, feeling especially depressed.

"We didn't fail," Finn stood up, trying to rally the troops. "It wasn't us. It wasn't Mitchell. It's Sue. As long as they still believe her…We'll never get Mitchell back."

"I'm actually kinda bummed out." Santana remarked, finding the emotion odd.

"Quinn?" Puck noticed the blonde had little tears in her eyes.

"I'm fine," she sniffled, "It's just that I'm a little sad and my hormones are out of whack."

"That happens to me too, whenever I'm pregnant," Brittany said.

What? You know, it was best that he didn't ask. They all just stared at the floor, still finding it very shocking that their big performance hadn't done the trick.

'We to try something else.'

Jack was about to open his mouth to make another suggestion. They couldn't just quit when the door opened. It was Mr. Schuester…

"Hey guys, what's with the long faces? Didn't you hear…?"

That wasn't Mr. Schuester's voice…

"… I'm back!"

'MITCHELL!" Rachel squealed happily, running over to give him a friendly hug.

Jack stood up, unsure of how to react. Mitchell was back? How? What could've happened that changed his parents' minds? He watched the rest of the club congregate around their center.

'Maybe we should pay attention.'

'Good idea.'

"Dude!" Finn clapped hands with him, "I thought they didn't buy it."

"That's the weird thing," Mitchell answered, clapping hands and hugging everyone, "They didn't. I mean…They woke up this morning and told me that they gave it some extra thought and maybe Glee isn't such a bad place for me after all."

'Well, ain't that a kick in the head?'

'I don't think we can take anymore of those.'

'Touché.'

"Whatever," Quinn was smiling and laughing, "It doesn't matter how. It just matters that you're back."

"Hell yeah!" Mitchell was flying high, "And, guess what…"

"SECTIONALS…HERE WE COME!"

The group was whole, ready to roll for Sectionals, just as it was meant to be.

**0000000000**

Jack stayed in the shadows when Rachel arrived for the yearbook pictures. To say that conditions were lackluster would be an understatement. What the hell did Figgins spend the money his father donates every year? Still, Rachel would not be denied this moment. Both she and Jack scanned the area for Finn, but he didn't show up for the photos. Jack stepped back into the shadows, shaking his head defiantly when Rachel looked back at him with that "Please be the picture" look on her face.

"All right," Rachel said. "Let's get on with it."

She struck a simple, rather sedate pose for what they were sure was the first picture, her megawatt smile bringing a little extra to the darkened room. The photographer snapped off two pictures.

"Great," he said, picking up his camera and placing it back in the bag.

"That's it?" Certainly this couldn't be it. "I practiced over 18 different poses for this shoot and I didn't even get my over the left shoulder pose." Rachel demonstrated the pose. It was good.

"Sorry, kid. I gotta blow," the older man shrugged. "But, I have to get a casting session in half an hour."

If it was possible for a Jew and Deist to hear the same choir of angels singing "Hallelujah!" than Rachel and Jack experienced that moment when they heard the magic words: "Casting session!"

"What kind of casting session?" Rachel asked, Jack suddenly at the foot of the setup for the picture.

"For a movie?" he inquired, popping up right in front of the photographer.

"Um, no," the man stated, kind of terrified at the blonde's sudden reappearance. "My brother-in-law is shooting a commercial for his store. I'm directing it. I just do these school photos for the money."

Jack and Rachel locked eyes. It had to be kismet. There was no explaining it. Rachel's face started to well up as she started to cry. Jack, not to be outdone, sprang to her side.

"Look what you did?" Panic and fury were the order of the day as he wrapped his arms around his friend.

The photographer sputtered, unsure of what to do. "It's okay! I can take a few more pictures."

"I can cry on demand," she was back to her normal confident self. "It's one of my many talents."

Jack's face reverted back to normal as well, his voice now level. "And I play two emotions simultaneous."

"We're both very versatile." Rachel leapt from the chair. "And, aside from nudity and the exploitation of animals, I'll pretty much do anything to break into the business."

"And, unlike her, I'm not a big wuss or an animal lover," Jack stated. "So, if your brother-in-law runs a bestiality sex store, I'm totally down with that."

"W-Well, you both certainly seem talented…and kind of scary. But I – I need – There's other speaking parts in this thing. I need, like, a bunch of other actors too."

The two divas exchanged looks.

"We can help with that too."

**0000000000**

Understatements seem to be the real order of the day this episode, because to say that New Directions wasn't excited about the announcement made by Rachel at their latest meeting would be such an example of the term. In fact, they weren't opposed to being in Mattress Land that Saturday night when most of them were, no doubt, fornicating, or tracking elk, or contacting Kim Jong-Il, or whatever it was they did on their free days.

Jack entered the store, ready to roll. If he had an entourage and was being photographed by the paparazzi this was the perfect entrance. For now, he'll just settle for a slow motion entrance, the tails of his newest windbreaker.

"Is he moving in slow motion?" Mitchell asked Quinn, quirking an eyebrow.

"Looks like it," she answered.

Jack stopped and everything returned to normal speed.

"He was," Kurt stated.

"Good to see all of you," Jack said, removing his sunglasses.

"You do realize it's almost night time, right?" Mercedes queried.

"Doesn't matter," Jack dropped the coat, revealing the pajamas that they were all ready to wear. "I demand that the workhorses carry me to my chair."

Everyone exchanged looks before returning to their current activities. Jack walked to his chair, taking out his makeup case. He prepped for the shoot as the owner of the store and the director emerged, giving a spiel about how mattresses weren't just for sleeping and fornicating on anymore, he said that they were about having fun.

After a failed first started, the glee kids finally said that they should let them handle the situation. The owner and director were apprehensive, but when they suggested Val Halen's _Jump_ it was like the dam opened and the river of awesome nearly drowned them all.

Luckily, it was more metaphorical so no deaths actually happened. On the final chorus of "Jump!", they all landed on the mattresses that had served as their trampolines for a good portion of

**000000000**

"Can I give you a lift home?" Jack asked as he and Rachel exited the mattress store, his head motioning to the van that was waiting for him at the curb across the street.

"Sure," Rachel looped her arm in his.

Jack grunted, confused at the sudden contact. Rachel seemed to sense his discomfort.

"I sorry."

"No," it wasn't much of a problem really, "no, it's fine. I'm just not used to human contact."

He held out his arm, which Rachel gladly took. The two walked to the van, discussing what they would do with their newfound fame.

"I'm going to use this as a springboard to bigger things." Rachel's plan was a good one. "Brighter things. Did you know that Jodie Foster began her career in a Coppertone commercial when she was three years old?"

"Thank you." Well, that was random.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said thank you," Jack repeated.

"For what?"

"For going back to the glee club, for showing how amazing it was." Jack was in a revealing mood on this night. "And I've gotta say that that commercial shoot was the most fun I've ever had with a group of people. Save for the yearly musical bash known as a Harmon family reunion." He shrugged. "I don't think I've thanked you for that."

Rachel smiled, sort of at a loss for words. "You're welcome."

The two were interrupted by Henderson, the head of Jack's security detail, honking the horn.

"Are two getting in the van or not?" he asked.

"How many kids have you asked that question to today?" Jack countered, hopping into the back and Rachel following after him.

"I hate smart kids," Henderson growled playfully to the guard in the passenger seat, who chuckled under his breath.

Henderson started the van and they pulled out from Mattress Land.

**000000000**

Now, as mentioned earlier, there were no deaths in the metaphorical flood of awesome. By Monday, they were all wishing that something close to that would've happened at the commercial shoot. That was the day they learned that, because of their impulsive jump into the world of professional work disqualified them from the amateur competition.

To make matters worse, Mr. Schuester had been the one to take the fall, as he was the one who used the payment: A butt-load of mattresses.

"We don't wanna go to Sectionals without you," Finn protested.

Jack looked at Rachel. Was this their fault? So many times their plans had come back to bite them on the ass. Mr. Schue explained that they didn't need him to win.

Jack, though, knew that the group had no confidence over their chances without their teacher...Hell, even with Mr. Schue, they were still long shot.

'Benny the Weasel won't even give odds on us.'

'I know.'

'We need to do something.'

'Yeah, but what?'

'Go to Figgins. He's a wimp. He'll fold if we threaten to have Dad pull his patronage of the school.'

'Sometimes, I am glad you speak.'

**0000000000**

"Hello, Mr. Harmon," Figgins greeted cheerfully when Jack entered the room. "What can I do for you today?"

"I'm glad you answered that," he said. "May I have a seat?"

"Certainly," Figgins gestured to a nearby chair.

"Thank you." Jack sat down. "You asked what you could do for me and I have something that I think you can help me with."

Figgins nodded. "I'll see what I could do."

"You can reinstate William Schuester as the director of the glee club."

Figgins' demeanor changed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Harmon. That is out of my hands."

"Who's hands is it in? Coach Sylvester's? I mean, she is the one pulling the strings here, right?"

Figgins' lips almost vanished into his mouth."It has nothing to do with Coach Sylvester,. It's in the handbook, Mr. Harmon, so it's out of my hands."

"Lie then," Jack countered. "You've been behind us. I know you want us to win. And we need Mr. Schuester to win. If Coach Sylvester goes to the rules committee, you can help us fix it."

"I can't do that," Figgins stated firmly.

"Why not?"

The principal readjusted himself in his chair. "It wouldn't help," he finally said. "So, I see no reason to get in-"

Those words made it click for Jack, Figgins was afraid of causing any trouble. That was why he made so much crap slide in this school. That was why he bent to the whims of Sue and every other lunatic that worked at this school.

"Here's an idea," Jack said, his voice climbing higher and higher with each word. "Why don't you grow a set and learn how to play the game? You let the Cheerios get away everything under the two suns of Jupiter and what they do isn't even worth the price of admission. You have a chance to have winners in this school at something, anything, and you are too stupid to see it."

There was silence in the office for what seemed like an eternity, Jack glaring at Figgins and the principal returning the look in kind.

"Mr. Harmon," he began, "I want you to leave this office right now."

"Or what?" Jack snarled. "You'll scold me? Force me to stay in dentition? Face it; you don't have the balls to stand up to anyone."

"If you do not leave," Figgins growled. "I will have no choice but to expel you."

Jack's reaction took only a split second and you had to be well-versed in his body language to even notice it happened, but it happened: Jack Harmon actually flinched.

"You wouldn't dare," Jack said. "And lose my father as a patron? I think not."

Figgins stood up. So, the boy wanted to call his bluff.

"I would," the principal said, his expression as honest as Jack had ever seen. "Because, I agree, I do let a lot of things slide in this school. But, I will tolerate insubordination from one of my students. So, I will ask you again to leave this office right now, or I will expel you here and now."

"This isn't over," Jack muttered under his breath, turning to leave the office.

"Yes, it is." Figgins had heard him.

Jack felt something, well, two things: The first was the feeling of his face drooping in sadness. He had always been someone who prided himself on being able to control his emotions to the untrained. Only those fluent Jack Harmon body language actually knew what went on inside of his head. At present standing, only four people were fluent enough to really understand him.

The second was failure. Jack Harmon had never failed once in his life. And even if he did, he would cover it up. This wasn't something he could throw a coat of paint on and wait for it to reset itself.

**0000000000**

_Smile, though your heart is aching  
__Smile, even though it's breaking  
__When there are clouds in the sky  
__You'll get by_

Jack walked through the halls of McKinley, taking notice of everyone in glee were going into the restrooms. No doubt they were getting ready for their picture in the yearbook. Quinn had pulled a move out of his playbook and had gotten Sue to give them a spot in the dreaded tome.

_If you smile through your fear and sorrow  
__Smile and maybe tomorrow  
__You'll see the sun come shining through  
__For you_

He looked into the room where he and Rachel had been in less than a week earlier, where they had gotten the commercial. The teachers were getting their pictures taken. Mr. Schue's picture would have his name under it in the _Thunderclap_, mention that he was the Spanish teacher, but make no mention of the glee club.

_Light up your face with gladness  
__Hide every trace of sadness  
__Although a tear may be ever so near_

He continued walking down the hall, seeing that his fellow glee clubbers were now ready for their picture and the subsequent defacing without a single complaint.

_That's the time you must keep on trying  
__Smile what's the use of crying  
You'll find that life is still worthwhile  
__If you'll just smile_

Why had he backed down? Figgins was nothing to shake over, to tumble back and reevaluate your strategy. In fact, he was the kind of person his father would've messed up when he was serving in Vietnam.

_That's the time you must keep on trying  
__Smile what's the use of crying  
You'll find that life is still worthwhile  
__If you'll just smile_

He followed after the club, not sure why. He didn't want to be a part of the picture, did he? Why were there so many questions? His life had been so simple before they had come along. Though, it was a little boring.

_Smile, though your heart is aching  
__Smile, even though it's breaking  
__When there are clouds in the sky  
__You'll get by_

Was that why? Did he care about these outcasts and losers? Looking around the choir room as they posed for the picture, Jack took his spot next to Rachel and Finn.

'I don't want to leave them.' It was that simple. He wanted to stay with the outcasts and losers. So simple...

_That's the time you must keep on trying  
__Smile what's the use of crying  
You'll find that life is still worthwhile  
__If you'll just smile_

A few days after the _Thunderclap_ was completed and distributed to the school, Jack sat in the library, flipping through it, noticing the picture of the glee club had been defaced, just as they predicted. But, no one, not even him, had mentioned it. It was a badge of honor for this little freaky family.

_You'll find that life is still worthwhile  
__If you'll just smile_

He flipped the pages back and smiled at his own picture, the teeth blacked out and his head now resembling something that looked like a crudely drawn part of the male anatomy.

_SMILE!_

He laughed, closing the book. Someday they would understand what the glee club really meant.

**0000000000**

**A/N: Wow! I finished this chapter at long last! Holy crap. I want to apologize for not getting it uploaded sooner, but I think the first episodes of the series are always the hardest for me. It's no excuse, but I'm using it anyways.**

**I hope that I wasn't too vague about why Jack placed his picture in the yearbook. Or to blatant in the scenes. I don't know, you be the judge.**

**Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter because, while it was a toughie to crank out, I really enjoyed writing it.**

**And now, as I do not believe in goodbyes, I would like to say good night, good luck, good morning, and good day to all the people of the world.**

**Signed  
****Soulless Warlock**


	7. Sectionals

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

**0000000000**

Jack Harmon was many things, but stupid was not one of them. He had a feeling that the members of the glee club were trying to hide something from him. But, what could it be? What was something so destructive that it had to be hidden from him?

How did he know it was destructive, you ask? Well, in Jack's life, he had learned that when you hide a secret from someone like him, it had to something both damning and destructive. Something that could rip the very fabricate of your existence asunder.

Okay, maybe that was a little melodramatic, but his point stood. They were hiding something and if the events of earlier today were any indication of what they were hiding from him, it was a real doozy.

**0000000000**

_Earlier that day, Jack had walked into the music room, finding Kurt, Mitchell, Artie, Tina, Mercedes, Brittany, and Santana all congregated around the piano. He had walked in on the tail end of a conversation. _

**"And Jack can't know either,"** _Kurt suggested._

**"Can't know what?"** _he inquired._

**"I thought you could smell brimstone before he walks into a room?"** _Tina whispered to Artie. _

**"Must be an urban legend,"** _Artie commented._

**"Jack can't know what?"** _the tenor repeated._

**"If we told you that would defeat the purpose of the whole 'Jack-Ass can't know' idea,"** _Santana quickly said. _

**"Oh, let's not lie to him,"** _Mercedes interjected._ **"Jack, Mr. Schue told us that you have to wear the costume for Sectionals." **

**"I already knew that,"** _Jack said._ **"I confess they're not the most fashionable, but I've worn worse." **

_Jack studied the looks on everyone's face; they were definitely hiding something from him. He looked at Mitchell; Bambi's face told him that there was something else. However, the group solidarity was at an all time high. This meant that the odds of him finding out by the simple application of blackmail or threat of force were fairly slim. _

**"Are you sure that's all?" **he asked.

**"Would we lie?" **_Santana asked, a smug look on her face._

**'Frequently,' **_was what he was thinking, but, instead, he choice to say,_** "I doubt any of you are good enough actors to lie this convincingly. You barely emote during songs." **

**0000000000**

Jack met Rachel at their usual rendezvous point, by her locker before they walked down the hallway.

"I've got a feeling that the glee club is hiding something from me," the tiny diva stated.

Jack smiled. "You have read my mind, Fraulein Berry."

"I tried to talking them," Rachel said just as they past Mercedes in the hallway

"Hey there, hot mama," Mercedes said.

Neither Rachel nor Jack was quite sure how to take that greeting.

"They are definately hiding something," Rachel whispered to Jack as he watched the others vanish through the sea of students.

"I agree," Jack said. "They were trying their best to deflect me when I talked to them earlier today."

"I tried to talk to them about a suspicion that I've had for a while now, but they just stood up and ran out of the room."

Jack stopped, rubbing his chin. "They've been doing the same thing to me."

"But, why? I thought we were all past the idea that secrets actually helped the glee club," Rachel pondered.

"I don't know," Jack confessed. "What'd they do it to you?"

"I told them that I think there's something amiss with Quinn and Noah," Rachel said. "Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

**0000000000**

_Jack had been sitting comfortably in his usual chair during rehearsal when Quinn stumbled to the ground. Finn, Puck, and Mitchell leapt to their feet, asking if she was all right, if the baby was coming, and if she needed mouth-to-mouth respectively. _

_Jack had noticed that Puck was the most concerned of the trio, but Quinn insisted she was fine. At first, Jack had actually been impressed that Puck was showing any concern for someone other than himself. Then, he cast aside this thought when he recalled that Puck had said something about "porking preggos" only a week earlier and returned to his book._

**0000000000**

"I did notice it," Jack said. "But, I don't think it's anything. Mohawk Jew said it himself, having sex with pregnant women is the safest kind of sex. Mostly because you can't get them pregnant, you know, for obvious reasons."

Rachel shook her head disappointedly. She still wasn't convinced that Quinn and Noah were not hiding something, but she didn't have any proof. At least, not yet.

"Okay," she said. "I'll cover Quinn and Noah; you handle the rest of the group. We have to know what they're hiding. The glee club can't survive if we have secrets."

"Bingo-bango!" Jack declared. "We'll meet up in the computer lab at the end of the day to compare notes."

"Gotcha!" Rachel said as she and Jack split up for one of the classes they did not have together.

**0000000000**

Jack was nursing bruised ribs, a black eye, and a sprained ankle by the end of the day as he entered the music room. It was the sacrifice he made trying to find something, anything that would reveal what the glee club was hiding from both him and Rachel.

**0000000000**

_First, he had tried the more direct approach. _

**"So,"** _he said when he took a seat with Puck at lunch time,_ **"do you know any secrets the club might hiding from me and Rachel?"** _Puck raised an eyebrow at him._ **"I'll make it worth your while."** _Jack reached for his wallet._ **"So, is the big secret that you're coming out of the closet soon? Because, honestly, you're not fooling anyone."**

_The next sensation Jack felt was the wind whipping through his hair as he flew out of the cafeteria window and on to the ground. _

**0000000000**

_So, he figured that he should try a less than direct approach. He would go to Quinn's trampy friends. And that is how he learned that the female Cheerios did not take too kindly to having someone waiting for them in the locker room after they showered. _

**"And don't forget about the nunchackus."**

_And they also carry nunchackus. _

**0000000000**

_After that wash, Jack decided that his best chance was to be covert. He appeared on the scene, dressed in a rather ridiculous attempt at looking like a goth. Whether it was a boy goth or a girl goth, no could tell. _

**"Greetings, fellow outsiders,"** _he said to Artie and Tina._

**"Jack, what're you doing?"** _Artie asked through gritted teeth. He was trying not to laugh at the site before him._

_Jack was wearing a black kilt with matching pants and shirt, complete with peasant blouse and wig. He was decked in makeup that make even a drag queen say,_ **"Honey, there's too much."**

**"I'm not Jack,"** _he wasn't very good at lying when it counted._ **"Who is this Jack you speak of?"**

**"You sure?" **_Tina asked._

**"Of course," **_he replied._ **"I am merely a curious student looking for secrets."**

**'Not best excuse, but let's keep going.' **

_Yeah, verily. And it got even worse when Artie started speaking. _

**"Good. Cause I can't stand that guy." **

**"Yeah,"** Tina seemed to concur. **"He thinks he's so talented. And he's really not."**

**"Oh, Jack Harmon,"** Jack said. **"I know that guy. He's not so bad."**

**"He'd be great, if we found a sock big enough to fit in his mouth,"** Artie said.

**"Or a sack to fit over his head." **

**'Well, that's not very nice.' **

**"Isn't it unfair,"** _Jack said._ **"He's not even here to defend himself."**

**"He's all flash,"** _Artie pressed._ **"He wouldn't do…"**

**"Wouldn't do what?"** _Jack roared, pulling off his wig._

_Then it dawned on him_.

**"Crap!"** _Jack said._

**"Dude, we knew it was you the whole time,"** _Artie said._ **"It's not a really good disguise."**

_Jack shrugged._ **"Valid."** _He looked around._ **"So, do you guys wanna tell me what you've been hiding from me and Rachel?"**

**"Not really,"** _Tina said, pushing Artie down the hall._

**"I'll find out what you guys are hiding!"** _Jack shouted, following after them, only to feel someone tugging in the skirt. _

_Jack turned his head slowly, knowing he wouldn't like the view behind him. When he completed the turn, he saw Karofsky and Azimio grinning at him like a pair of idiots transfixed by shiny light. _

**'This isn't going to be good.'**

**'I told you we should've gone with just the pants and shirt. It would make this fight easier.' **

**0000000000**

Glee club was just about to start, everyone still gathering and taking their seats. Already sitting down, Jack couldn't help but notice Quinn and Puck talking with each other away from everyone else. And Rachel, who had arrived only a few seconds behind Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury, was watching the scene as well. Freeing himself from the hook the two jocks had hung him on and getting changed had eaten up more time than he had expected. So, there was no rendezvous at the computer lab.

'Oh please, merciful God, don't let this be a Puckleberry rehash,' he moaned mentally when he saw the look of disappointment and outright sadness on Rachel's face.

Everything stopped, though, when Mr. Schuester walked into the room with Ms. Pillsbury tailing closely behind.

"Hey guys, let's all gather 'round." Mr. Schue spoke, his tone and demeanor very quiet and serious. "I found my replacement to accompany you all to Sectionals. Ms. Pillsbury."

"She's the one they made me talk to when they found out I was keeping that bird in my locker," Brittany said.

Jack craned his head around, unsure of what to say to this odd blonde girl. He shook his head and returned his attention to the scene before him.

"Do you even know anything about music?" Santana asked.

"I second that," Jack stated, his eyes locked on the school councilor.

"What's important here," Mr. Schue said, "is she cares about you guys every bit as much as I do." Mr. Schue seemed choked up. "Now, I have no idea what the future holds for me…for us. But, I know that Saturday, you're going to make me – yourselves – proud. I'm sure that you guys are going to be great. So, good-bye for now."

"What about our set-list?" Mercedes asked. Anything to keep their leader in the room.

"I can't help you," Mr. Schuester shook his head. "It's entirely in your hands now."

And then he was gone. Mitchell exited the room, following after Mr. Schue, no doubt.

"Well," Artie decided to take the bull by horns, "we have to do _Proud Mary_ in wheelchairs. That's in."

"And we have to do _Don't Stop Believin'_, for sure," Finn stated next.

"What about a ballad?" Tina asked.

Jack and Rachel turned to each other, the former giving the latter a "go for it" wink.

"I'll take it from here," Rachel sprang to her feet and raced to the front of the room. "I will be more than happy to contribute from extensive repertoire."

"Okay, you what, Miss Bossy Pants? Enough." Mercedes was out of her seat. "I've worked just as hard as you, and I'm just as good as you." The African-American girl moved toward Rachel. You always steal the spotlight."

"Have a seat, Mercury!"

"And you," she spun to Jack, "Finn was right. You're just her 'yes man'. I'm just as good as either one of you."

Jack laughed. "You can entertain your little delusions after we win at Sectionals."

"Honestly, Mercedes, do you really believe you're as strong of a balladeer as me?" Rachel questioned. "Ballads are kind of my thing."

"Okay," Ms. Pillsbury playing the role of peacekeeper, "Rachel, why don't you let Mercedes give it a try?"

"Thanks, Ms. P," Mercedes said simply before walking to the piano. "Do I even need to tell you what song?"

"Ms. Pillsbury, I must protest," Jack said when Ms. Pillsbury took a seat next to him. "You don't toss the best for somebody trying to prove themselves."

Then something cut Ms. Pillsbury's response.

_"And I am tellin' you, I'm not going,"_ Mercedes began to sing. _"You're the best man I've ever known. There's no way I can ever go."_

For the first time since he had joined the glee club, one of the backstage props actually impressed him. Maybe there was more talent in the group than just himself and Rachel…On any normal day this would've been troubling, but, for some reason, it wasn't.

What impressed him the most was Mercury was able to do a myriad of vocal acrobatics without losing the notes. That was something that took a lot of talent and practice to pull off. She was…good. More than good, she was great.

_"__Tear down the mountains, yell, scream and shout like you can say what you want, I'm not walking out,"_ she sang defiantly. _"Stop all the rivers, push, strike and kill, I'm not gonna leave you there's no way I will."_

She sustained the note brilliantly as she took the song into the final chorus, bringing the entire room to their feet for the final brilliant note, _"You're gonna love-"_ she seemed to be putting everything into this one before she belted, _"ME!"_

The room applauded as Mercedes caught her breath. She hened up as Rachel began to walk toward her.

"Thoughts?" she asked in a rather confident manner.

"It's clear the room adores you," Rachel said. "And, although, it would not have been my first choice, I can't wait to hear you sing it at Sectionals. You're amazing; Mercedes, and…you deserve it."

Jack was not sure how to react to this change of events. On one hand, Mercury had a real set of pipes on her, but on the other, she lacked a certain star quality. Then again, she nailed that song as good, if not better, than Jennifer Hudson and Jennifer Holliday. So, would it hurt their chances at Sectionals?

'Hell, it may help us,' Jack's mental projection stated. 'You know how most judges love minorities.'

'Affirmative action in a glee club competition?' Jack thought. 'I love it!' Then, it dawned on him. 'What about Jane Addams?'

'They're not minorities, they're just stereotypes.'

'I thought they were the same thing.'

'Dude, you are so racist.'

'I thought you were me too. Wouldn't that make you racist too?'

"So, what'd you think?" Mercedes' voice jerked Jack out of his brainstorming session.

Without missing a beat, he said, "I'm hardly the one you have to impress. It's the judges I'm concerned with."

He stood up, picking up his satchel.

"You act like you are the judge," Mercedes retorted.

"Ah," Jack sighed. "You really want my opinion?"

"Wouldn't have asked for it if I didn't," she replied.

Jack nodded and pursed his lips together.

"It was pretty good," Jack said. "Don't go getting a big head; of course, it's all nothing if we lose at Sectionals. Though, I'm not really worried."

No sooner did Jack say this did Finn coming flying back into the room, a look of madness in his eyes that rivaled anything seen in such epics as _Spartacus_ or _Gladiator_. Finn shoved Jack into a chair, causing the chair to launch back into the back of the room.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Finn roared as he slugged Puck in the face, leveling his fellow football player.

Jack did not react, he just watched as the lumbering co-captain of the glee club unloaded on the guy who had been, only a few moments earlier, his best friend.

'What in the hell?' Jack asked himself.

Mitchell and Mr. Schuester arrived on the scene, immediately hurrying over to Finn who was on top of Puck, landing thunderous blow after thunderous blow. Mitchell was first to try and pull Finn off, but caught an elbow to the eye for his troubles. Then Mr. Schuester gave it a shot and was able to pull Finn off, who was blinded with rage.

Jack was about to intervene before he heard Finn shout.

"TELL THE TRUTH!"

'This could be it,' he thought. 'This could be what everyone was hiding.'

"Bitch just walked in and sucker-punched me!" Puck snarled.

"Don't play dumb," Finn tried charging again, but this time was successfully held back by Mike and Matt. "You're too frickin' dumb to play dumb!"

"Who told you this, Finn?" Quinn sobbed.

"Obviously, it was Rachel." Kurt said, helping Mitchell to his feet.

"I didn't…" Rachel protested.

Wait? She knew what was going on and didn't tell him?

"Yeah, it was Rachel. But, I wanna hear it from both of you!" Finn looked ready to blow a gasket and judging from the look on his face, he planned on replacing his with one of Puck's.

"Damn it, Finn," Mr. Schuester commanded. "Calm down!"

"NO!" Finn yelled. "THEY'RE LYING TO ME!"

"Finn…" Quinn was now in tears.

"I have to know," Finn stated, "the truth."

Quinn approached Finn slowly with those tears still falling. "Yes. Puck is the father."

What? That was the secret? Wow! _Juno_ suddenly just a lot more interesting.

'Wait a minute? How the hell did we not know? What else don't we know about?'

Finn exploded and left the room, kicking over a chair in the process, "I'm done with you! I'M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU!"

Jack's eyes almost bugged out of his skull, though it only happened for a split second. Their captain had walked out of the room and out of their lives. What did that mean for the rest of the glee club? And, seriously, how in the HELL did he not figure out that Mohawk Jew was the baby daddy? It was so obvious when he thought about it.

And Jack was absolutely dumbstruck at that. What else didn't he know?

"What do we do now?" Artie asked the question on all their minds. "Not to sound rude, but we have a pretty big performance coming up."

Jack sat silent in the back of the room, arms crossed, with somewhat of a pouty expression, "Please tell me I wasn't the only one that didn't know?" he asked. "How could I not know? Wait…Troubling…What else don't I know?"

**0000000000**

The bus ride, for lack of a better term, sucked. The entire duration of the travel time, Jack and Rachel were busty rearranging everything to make up for Finn going AWOL. Jack understood his rage, but he also was annoyed at the co-captain for ditching them because of his own personal problems.

'Not to be insensitive, but the show must go on.'

He was extremely insensitive.

Nevertheless, they arrived at their destination. Unfortunately, Finn's diva storm out left them in the lurch…an ironic choice of words…but, they were in a lurch nonetheless. They were forced to replace him with Jacob Ben-Israel at the last second…A very, very last second replacement.

They all gathered in the main lobby while Ms. Pillsbury handled the business end of things. Eventually, she came to them with papers in hand.

"Okay," she began. "Smooth sailing so far. We're all signed in. And, according to the program…you have drawn performance slot number three."

"Last?" Tina asked. "Isn't that bad?"

"Hardly," Rachel stood up, feeling the need to try and lift the spirits of her comrades. "This is good news."

"Yes!" Jack followed suit. "We either want to be first or last."

"See," Rachel took over for him, "if we're first, then everyone has to measure up to us."

"If we're last," Jack added, almost reading her mind, "then we're the freshest in the judges' minds."

Still, the rest of the crew did not seem convinced.

"You know what," Miss Pillsbury stated. She clearly was. At least there was one positive thinker in the room. "I'm with Rachel and Jack on this. The glass is definitely half-full with a lot of good things right now."

"Ms. Pillsbury's right," Mercedes agreed. "We're here now. Might as well stay positive, right?"

**0000000000**

You could have knocked each member of New Directions over with a feather. And that was keeping in mind that they were all seated in chairs. The Jane Adams girls were singing the song hand-selected by Mercedes.

"It's a really popular song." Rachel attempted to soften the blow.

"Are you kidding me?" Jack asked.

And Jack could've let this slide as a coincidence. Until they pulled the _Proud Mary_ called…complete with wheelchairs. And even then, he would've allowed himself to be lulled into the idea that it was just a weird coincidence. Then came _Don't Stop Believin'_ and Jack finally decided that it was best to let go of the coincidence excuse and kick some ass.

Someone had leaked the set list. Someone had to **pay**.

**0000000000**

"Son of a bitch!" Jack shouted when his spotless Calvin Kline Fedors' made contact with something wet during intermission.

Jack looked up to see Jacob Ben-Israel quivering in fear. Whether or not it was from the situation that they had walked in to or the fact that he now had a furious Jack Harmon leveling a glare at him so sharp it could slice a lightsaber blade.

"Will, it's a disaster," Miss Pillsbury said to Mr. Schuester over the cell phone. "Artie keeps ramming himself against a wall and I pretty sure Jacob Ben-Israel just wet himself."

Jack's head seemed to be operating on a swivel, his head snapping around to the Jew-Fro, who immediately tried to laugh off what had just happened.

**0000000000**

The entire glee club, minus Finn, who wasn't there, and Quinn who was in the midst of a quick trip to the bathroom, had gathered together to discuss the issue at hand. How in the blue hell did Sue get her hands on the set list? And, more importantly, how did they know the performances inside and out? After much thought and deliberation, all roads led to…

"Them! The harpies!" Jack shouted in an accusatory tone, pointing dramatically at Brittany and Santana. "Ah! We were so blind, how did we not see this sooner?"

"He's right," Mercedes paused for a second. Jack cocked an eyebrow at her. Had she just agreed with him? "There's no other way."

"No," Mitchell disagreed. "They wouldn't do that."

"Open your eyes for once, Mitchell Marcus Mason," Kurt said; using the full name for emphasis. "They leaked the set lists to Sue. Who else would?"

The rest of glee club stood with bated breath, waiting for the answers they were looking for.

"It's all true," Quinn had reentered the room. "Sue told us to spy for her. We agreed."

Admission!

"Oh yes, something wicked comes your way." Jack smiled in a very sinister fashion, rubbing his hands together.

"Okay, look," Santana stepped forward, "believe what you want, but nobody's forcing me to be here. I'll deny it if you tell anyone, but I actually like being here. It's the best part of my day. It's…"

"I need to know something," Mitchell asked in a quiet voice. A voice that seemed to be the prelude to a huge explosion. "The whole time that…"

'Oh, boy,' Jack's mental half said.

'This isn't good.'

"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO SOMEBODY?" Mitchell's furious roar nearly knocked Jack backwards

"Mitchell…" Quinn reached a hand.

"Don't touch me!" he sharply pulled away, tripping and nearly falling, shouting, startling everyone. He stared at Santana, his eyes brimming with a mix of pain and anger, "You're…You were…the only girlfriend I've had. After we sorted everything out, I felt good about myself. Better, because of you. And you said…You told me that you really liked me, that it wasn't fake. You lied! WHY DID YOU LIE?"

"We're getting too side-tracked here," Rachel stepped in. "We need to…"

Mitchell closed his eyes tightly, bringing his arms up to his head. This reminded everyone of Finn earlier, just a restricted version. Mitchell was at least trying to hold it in, "SHE LIED TO ME! SHE'S JUST LIKE QUINN!"

Quinn gasped, not expecting that.

"Dude, we were telling you all along," Puck said. "So, don't act like…"

"Puck, shut up!" Santana snarled at him. "You don't know how I feel about Mitchell."

"You don't feel anything," Mitchell said, taking a seat in a chair by the windows. "I don't wanna talk to you again. I don't wanna remember you."

"This is useless!" Rachel stepped in once more, this time with a little more fire. "Whatever internal issues we have, we're just going to have to set them aside for now. We've worked way too hard to self destruct at such a crucial point."

"We have no songs," Tina reminded everyone. "It doesn't matter if we self destruct because we're already destroyed."

Jack placed to fingers in his mouth and let out one of the biggest whistles anyone in the room had ever heard.

"This is pathetic," he said, joining Rachel. "Look at us, falling apart at the seams. You don't like me, I don't like you, he doesn't like her, she hates him, none of it matters! If _Batman Begins_ taught us nothing else, it's that the only reason we fall down is so that we can pick ourselves up."

"I didn't know you liked Batman." Artie mentioned.

"Now's not the time, Speedy," Jack stated. "All eyes and ears on Rachel. Stop whining and listen to her!"

"Okay, we need a ballad. Mercedes, do you have anything else in your repertoire?"

"Not anything that's as good as what you can sing." Mercedes shook her head. "Look, Rachel, I hate it but you're the best singer we've got."

"As much as it hurts me to admit it – and, trust me it does – Rachel, you are our star," Kurt agreed.

"You sing better than everyone." Mitchell said, looking out the window.

'Apparently, we're not in the room,' the mental half claimed.

'It is true though. She is spectacular. And she has the one thing we may lack.'

'And what's that?'

'Unintentionally offensive charm.'

Jack saw the subtle smile forming across Rachel's lips. In that smile, he saw that confident twinkle in her eyes shining again.

"Well," she said, "I do have something I've been working on since I was four."

"That's our ballad," Quinn said. "We can do _Somebody to Love_ after that. It's a crowd-pleaser."

"Yeah. That and a can of soup will guarantee us third place," Puck interjected. "We still need another we can all sing together."

As they all searched their minds, a surprise came in the form of Finn Hudson walking into the room with sheet music in his hand, "I have one. I found the sheet music online. I used the Cheerio's copier to make copies…Then I trashed the thing."

'Property damage,' Jack thought. 'Nice.'

The sheets were passed from one member to the next as Finn instructed them all on what to do, "Mike, Matt, Brittany and Santana – you're our best dancers. Figure something out and we'll follow you."

"It'll be choppy," Mike said.

"Good. We're best when we're loose."

'Has he been paying attention?'

'We'll make a leader out of him yet.'

"It's to have you back Finn," Rachel said.

Jack sighed, "As much as it pains me to do so, I must admit, she's right. _They_ listen to you. Why, I do not know, but they do."

Finn turned to Jacob, "Mind if I take my spot back?"

"Quite," the gossip monger commented. "The only reason I did this was to try and get into Rachel's pants."

Jack's eyes narrowed into slits. "I'll be right back," he said, his hand slithering around the nape of Jacob's neck. "Jew-Fro, I wanna talk to you."

The rest of the glee club waved to the gossip monger, who seemed, for once, at a loss for words.

"I bet he's gonna enjoy doing this to someone else," Mike whispered to Artie, who nodded.

**0000000000**

One Gilligan-cut later: Jacob Ben-Israel was sent flying out of the building and onto the parking lot.

"I'd call for a ride," Jack said.

Jack turned his attention back to the auditorium, cracking his neck. It was go time!

**0000000000**

"I handle the hair problem," Jack said, walking up behind Rachel. "You ready for this?"

"I was born ready," she replied confidently. "You had better get to the rest of club."

Jack nodded. "Break a leg up there."

"You too."

"Naturally."

"And now," the announcer declared, "our final team; McKinley High's New Directions!"

**0000000000**

The opening notes of _Don't Rain on My Parade_ began to play, Rachel counting the beats before she exploded through the curtain at the tops of the stairs, the spotlight on her.

_"__Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter. Life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter." _She started walking down,_ "Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!_

She put a little more pep into her actions, _"__Don't tell me not to fly, I've simply got to. If someone takes a spill, it's me and not you. Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade__?"_ She interacted with the audience like a pro. _"__I'm marchin' my band out. I'm beatin' my drum. And if I'm fanned out. Your turn at bat, sir. At least I didn't fake it. Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it.__"_

Her voice grew stronger, _"__But whether I'm the rose of sheer perfection, a freckle on the nose of life's complexion, the cinder or the shiny apple of its eye. I gotta fly once, I gotta try once. Only can die once. Right, sir_._"_

She was heading steadily to the stage until officially stepping onto it, _"__Oh, life is juicy juicy, and you see I gotta have my bite, sir. Get ready for me love, 'cause I'm a comer. I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer. Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade_._"_

_"__I'm gonna live and live now," _Rachel moved across the stage, every bit of talent and skill pouring out._ "Get what I want, I know how. One roll for the whole shebang. One throw, that bell will go clang. Eye on the target and wham. One shot, one gunshot and bam! Hey, Mr. Aronstein, Here I am! I'll march…My band out__!"_

The rest of New Directions entered from the top curtains in either aisle, _"__I'll beat my drum! And if I'm fanned out. Your turn at bat, sir. At least I didn't fake it. Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it. Get ready for me, love, 'cause I'm a comer. I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer. Nobody, no, nobody is gonna rain on my parade!"_

Standing ovation as the rest stood behind her. Rachel then gestured to them proudly, "Ladies and gentlemen – New Directions!"

They sang together, all dressed in their red and black, Jack standing in the front formation with Artie and Kurt, _**"**__**You can't always get what you want. You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes. You'll find…You get what you need**__**!"**_ they all moved perfectly together.

Finn took the lead, _"__I saw her today at a reception, a glass of wine in her hand. I knew she would meet her connection, at her feet was her footloose man."_

The other followed suit, _**"No, you can't always get what you want! You can't always get what you want! You can't always get what you want! And if you try sometime you find you get what you need!" **_

Jack grabbed Mercedes hand and spun her around, the two of them harmonizing with the music before Rachel leapt out in front of them.

_"__And I went down to the demonstration,__"_ she sang, _"__to get my fair share of abuse…__"_

She was dancing with Finn, twirling out and high fiving Jack, who had followed her actions and let Mercedes take the lead.

**"…singing,"** she and Finn chorused, **"'We're gonna vent our frustration If we don't we're gonna blow a 50-amp fuse'!"**

"Sing it to me now!" Jack exclaimed.

_**"You can't always get what you want! You can't always get what you want! You can't always get what you want! But if you try sometimes well you just might find! You get what you need! Oh baby, yeah, yeah!"**_

The entire club danced around the stage awkwardly, though, rather impressively for doing it on the fly.

_**"Oh, yeah! What you need!" **_

The band took it home as the audience came alive once again.

**0000000000**

The entirety of New Directions – this including Mr. Schuester – were inside of the choir room.

"We've got something to show you, Mr. Schue," Finn declared, as the entire group parted like the Red Sea.

Rachel wheeled out Artie, trophy in hand. Mr. Schue took the trophy.

"I can't believe this," he said, eyeing the trophy. "I am so proud of you guys. It was unanimous vote and the judges didn't even know about all the shenanigans backstage. You should all be very proud of yourselves. So, go on," he began to applaud them and they soon joined in."

When the applause died down, he continued speaking, "But, now we have Regionals to worry about. And, as hard as you guys have worked, you know Vocal Adrenaline is working just as hard. So, we've gotta bring it."

He looked down at the trophy again.

"I just wish I could've been there to see it."

"We already thought of that," Rachel said. "And we put this little number together."

The room seemed to go black; Jack was standing in the spotlight. Now was his time to shine.

_"__I've paid my dues, time after time__,"_ Jack sang softly yet strongly at the same time, _"__I've done my sentence, but committed no crime. And bad mistakes, I've made a few__,"_ his voice grew in volume greatly as the passion bled through generously, _"__I've had my share of sand kicked in my face, but I'd come through__!"_

The lights of the auditorium came up, revealing everyone on stage, singing together, _**"**__**We are the champions, my friends. And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end**__**."**_

Jack stepped in front, moving to the center of the group.

_**"**__**We are the champions. We are the champions! No time for losers, 'cause we are the champions...**__**"**_

Jack slipped out of formation; take the long sustained note alone, his arms outstretched. _"…__of the world__!"_

Rachel stepped to centre stage, the spotlight on her and Jack, _"__I've taken my bows, and my curtain calls. You've brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it,__" _she turned to the club and sang sincerely,_ "__I thank you all__.__"_

She looked back to the seats._ "__But it's been no bed of roses, no pleasure cruise_,_"_ then she really came alive, the fire visible in her face and emotions, _"__I consider it a challenge before the whole human race, and I ain't gonna lose!__"_

She joined the group, _**"**__**We are the champions, my friends. And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end**__**."**_

Everyone sang in unison, _**"**__**We are the champions. We are the champions. No time for losers 'cause we are the champions of the world.**__**"**_

Rachel and Jack joined each other in front of everyone, acting overly-dramatic, at least in the humble opinions of everyone else involved, _**"**__**We are the champions, our friends. And we'll keep fighting 'til the end**__**.**__"_

They went ahead and took it home, _**"**__**We are the champions. We are the champions. No time for losers, 'cause we are the champions!**__**"**_

Everyone celebrated in the background as Rachel and Jack pantomimed that roses were being thrown to them from an overwhelmed and joyous audience that wasn't really there.

"Question?" Mitchell raised his hand once the supposed fan-fare finished, "Why did we not do this for Sectionals?"

'Why didn't we?' the inner voice of Jack asked curiously.

**0000000000**

Jack sat alone in his thinking room, taking in the sense of victory, of ultimate victory. They had won at Sectionals. The Regionals title was now in his crosshairs. And he was going to make sure the glee club won that honor as well; even if he had to swim through a river of blood to get them there.

Jack's cell phone started to ring. He looked down to see it was Rachel.

"Hello," he answered. Rachel began to talk. "No, I…I don't have anything planned…The glee club's meeting at BreadStix to celebrate…Nice…I hope you guys have…I'm invited?"

Now, a Harmon is rarely ever stunned, surprised, maybe, vexed, normally, but never stunned. This stunned him. In his 15 years of life, no one outside of his family had ever invited him to join in with anything. He just showed up. This was his first invitation to anything.

But, should be take it? He still had so much to do before he knew he was ready for Regionals rehearsals. He thought for a moment and remembered something his therapist had said to him.

Dr. Latham had once told him that he was one of the most daring people she had ever met and that he was capable of making friends, if he only took the dare that let people into his life. A Harmon, this Harmon in particular, feared nothing, especially friendship.

"Yeah," he said into the receiver, "I'll be there."

He hung up the phone, looking around his thinking room. Eyeing the surveillance equipment in the room, he paused.

'Though I did want too…' he shook his head. 'I'll worry about this later.'

He stepped out of the room, closing the door. It was amazing how nice it felt to be a part of a team. He never thought he'd enjoy it. But, he did. He really, really did.

**0000000000**

**A/N: I know what you're all thinking: FINALLY! I'm as upset with myself as all get out, so…I think it balances out. Also, I hope it lived up to your expectations considering how long it took me to finish.**

**I just wanted to take the time to thank ZeroBen. Dude, if it wasn't for you, most of my story couldn't be told. So, I send out waves of unending thanks. I really hope you enjoyed reading this one more than anyone else.**

**I won't make any promises, but I do have a bonus chapter I am nearly finished with, so it should be up within the next few days…give or take.**


	8. Quinnie, Did You Know?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine. The character of Lawson mentioned in the story belongs to Gone Rampant. **

**0000000000**

For those who have a hard time believing it, it is true that the Christmas season is actually Jack Harmon's favorite holiday season, right behind Thanksgiving with his attempts at burning down Indian reservations and Halloween with the mannequin he would strategically place around the city to look like a serial killer was on the loose.

Still, despite all the fun mentioned in the previous holidays, he enjoyed Christmas the best. It was the one time of the year where he could sing just about anywhere and people would think he was just in the spirit and not insane. While Jack had no real opinion of the thoughts of others, he did dislike being locked up in a rubber room before his father could get him discharged.

He had wanted to sue the creators of _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_ after he was released, but that's neither here nor there. The point was, he loved Christmas.

However, the fates had conspiring to ruin his holiday already before it even began. Ever since Sectionals, Rachel had started dating Finn…Well, sort of. They hadn't made any joint public declaration, but Rachel had been all over the relationship even going so far as to make relationship schedules and shirts to the fact.

So, when he was given the task of find a duet partner for his father's annual charity party at Cedars Hospital he saw this as the ultimate chance to grab some quality time with his best friend.

**0000000000**

_Earlier in the day, Jack managed to catch Rachel when she wasn't vapor locked onto Finn._

**"Rachel,"** _he called out to her._

**"What is, Jack?"** _Rachel said, her megawatt smile shown to all the school._

**"I was wondering if you wanted to sing with me at charity event,"** _Jack's tone was inviting and surprisingly sweet. Not his usual 'you're come with me, so there' tone._

_Rachel made a sound that was not entirely hopeful. _

**"When is it?"** _she asked._

**"This Friday,"** _Jack said._

**"I'm sorry, Jack,"** _she said._ **"Finn and I have a date."**

_Jack nodded._ **"That's fine. Have fun."**

_He turned and exited the room. _

**0000000000**

Since that was pretty much a wash, Jack decided flip through his address book. He needed a duet partner and he needed one in three days. He decided to look in his address book to find a friend, who also sang. Unfortunately, he didn't have another friend who sang…or any friends really.

'What could do?' he pondered as the music room filled. 'Who could I use?'

Hummer would laugh in his face and reject the offer, Shore Leave wasn't right for the situation, unless it was all about getting penicillin shots and learning about safe sex, Theorist, Aretha, Bambi, Apache Chief, and Mohawk Jew were out of the question, and, finally, Wheels and Jinx…Could Roc or Other Asian even sing? Anyways, Wheels and Jinx, he didn't want to use because Wheels would only hold him back while Jinx was…well, wherever Wheels went she went so, to quote Mercury, hell to the no!

Jack listened to Mr. Schue as he gave them their last lecture of the semester. There were no assignments, merely discussion what was going to happen when they got to Regionals.

That was when Jack caught sight of Quinn, sitting alone. He arched his head to the side, studying her. Aesthetically, she was the perfect duet partner, vocally, she was passable. Of course, it wouldn't the first time a superior talent covered the slack for a passable one. Examples include Richard and Karen Carpenter, Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons, Peter Gabriel and Genesis, Phil Collins and Genesis, the list just goes on and on.

But there was something else he had noticed. Since her secret was exposed, she had been ostracized by everyone, including members of the glee club. It was kind of sad. Hell, Jack understood that feeling. Maybe not for the same thing, but he understood.

'And now it all comes together,' Jack said to himself.

Quinn Fabray, alias Pregnoid would be his duet partner before the day was complete.

**0000000000**

"I was curious, Pregnoid," Jack said when glee club ended, "but what're you doing for Christmas?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow at Jack and studied the tenor's body language. The one thing she had definitely listened to Rachel about was that, if you wanted to understand Jack, you never went with the way he says something, but what he is doing when he says something.

"I'm not sure," she finally said after figuring out he was genuinely curious. "Why?"

Jack nodded. "Well, I figured Christmas isn't high on the priority list of the Mohawk-Jew and his family, so I wanted to extend an invitation. My father has an annual charity Christmas party at Cedars Hospital and I wanted to know if you wanted to come and help out. I'm singing for the show and need a duet partner."

"Let me guess, Rachel's unavailable?" Quinn asked.

Jack pursed his lips. "Ever since she started seeing your ex, I've been cast to the side." His next comment was laced with almost acidic bile. "Not something I'm use too."

He cleared his throat. "Anyways, I would like the honor of singing with you at the ward. You are talented. A little flat, but your voice is distinct and sometimes that matters more than pitch."

"Was that a compliment or an insult?" she gathered her bookbag and walked away from the room. "Cause it's really hard to tell with you."

"It was a compliment." Jack followed after her. "As best as I can give."

"So, you admit you're not good at something."

"No. Merely that you take my statements how you wish and leave it at that."

Quinn studied Jack's features. There was nothing in them that indicating that he was up to something devilish or was lying about the event. '

"If you don't believe me," he had to have psychic powers, "I have the invitation right here."

He reached into his pocket and handed her a piece of paper.

"You can read it," he said, "but, I swear, it's legit."

Quinn's eyes moved across the paper. It seemed legitimate and was engraved. She knew that Jack was a master at elaborate setups, but she had a good sixth sense about people like him. He was serious. Still, she couldn't be sure.

"And, if you're wondering, no, you're completely safe from me."

Quinn's head bolted up. "I'm sorry."

"Me and Lawson are going back and forth for King Kong and the Mohawk Jew respectively because of BabyGate," he explained, "but, you're in no danger from me. Only because you're pregnant."

Quinn nodded. 'How does he know what I'm thinking?'

"So, can I are you going to it or not?"

Quinn rubbed her chin. "Why not?"

"Splendid!" Jack exclaimed, walking away from the pregnant girl, "My father and I will pick you up at 6."

**0000000000**

"I don't want to have this conversation," Quinn argued as she crossed to the door. "You don't choose who I can be friends with."

Puck scoffed at this, "You do know you're pregnant?"

'As if the stretch marks forming aren't any indication.'

"I know that," she snapped. "Listen," she calmly continued to argue. "Puck, I understand that you'd be nervous about something like this. But, can you trust me?"

Puck groaned. "I want to," he said. "It's just…the guy is crazy."

"I don't know," she said. "He might be insane, but I don't think he's crazy."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"My point is, I trust him, so I need you to trust me," she said. "And doesn't a girl deserve a nice Christmas? Even for a little bit?"

"Yeah," Puck said to himself. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad at you," Quinn said. "I just want to have one night where I'm not reminded of everything. You understand?"

Puck nodded. "Yeah, I do." He smiled. "Have fun."

"I'll try," Quinn said. "Though I doubt that Jack will be any fun unless he's committing a felony."

**0000000000**

Quinn walked down the pathway to a silver Sedan. Jack stepped out of the car and held the door open for her.

"Thank you," she said.

Jack climbed into the car after her, "So, how did telling the Mohawk Jew go?"

"It took some doing," Quinn admitted. "But, I was going one way or another."

"Good to know," Jack said.

"Ahem," a voice from the front seat interrupted the two blonde teens.

Quinn looked to the front of the car to see an older gentleman, decked out in a gray suit that matched his whitening beard and well-groomed hair.

"Hello," Quinn said.

The older man turned and put out his hand.

"Kristopher Harmon," he said. "Jack's father and keeper of his most embarrassing stories."

Jack's eyes briefly bugged out of his head. "Dad!"

"Be glad I didn't bring your baby pictures," Kristopher laughed, putting the car in gear and driving toward their destination.

"I'm surprised you didn't bring the van instead," Quinn mentioned.

"Yeah, we thought about it, but then logic told us a pretty blonde getting into the back of a van with tinted windows wasn't the best route to go," Jack explained.

Quinn started laughing. "I'm surprised nobody says when you get in it."

"You never heard about how he was once offered candy to get under the car," Kristopher joked from the front seat.

'Oh, I like this guy,' Quinn thought.

**0000000000**

"Seriously?" Quinn asked. "That was the only thing that kept him from crying?"

"Yeah," Kristopher said. "I was terrified and ashamed when I learned that about him."

"Okay," Jack growled, "are you two done laughing at me?" he turned to his father. "Or do I have to bring up the time you got stuck behind the refrigerator?"

Quinn felt like she had to pee. She hadn't laughed this much in months. And, of all people, Jack Harmon had been the cause. It was strange, he was usually so detestable. Had she stepped into the _Twilight Zone_?

And, needless to say, Jack's behavior would be even stranger before the evening was done.

**0000000000**

"I like to thank everyone coming out tonight," Kristopher Harmon announced as the party entered the entertainment portion. "As I've said before, this charity," he gestured to the room, "this wing of the hospital if it wasn't for the kind donations and actions of people like you."

"Most of them are doing this for a tax exemption," Jack whispered to Quinn, who slapped him on the arm. "What? They're being selfish and masking it as philanthropy."

Kristopher's speech droned on as Quinn countered Jack's argument.

"But, if someone does something selfish that helps others, does that make the act inherently selfish?"

Jack arched an eyebrow at the blonde. "Nice paradox."

"Been doing a lot of reading," she said.

Jack nodded contently. "According to my dad, he spent most of my birth mother's pregnancy keeping her away from Jose Quarvo. And I'm not talking about the drink."

Quinn wasn't sure how to respond to that comment, so she sighed and continued listening to the speech.

"And, um, I know how popular he's been at these events," Kristopher said. "I want everyone to give a warm welcome to my son, Jack, and his partner for the evening, Quinn Fabray!"

The audience gave a polite applause as Jack and Quinn took their places at the front of the room.

"Can someone get her a chair?" Jack asked.

"I'm fine," she whispered.

"Now, you are," he countered. "If spend too much time on your feet, then your ankles will swell up and I'll never here the end of it from Mohawk-Jew."

Quinn climbed into the seat as Kristopher brought a chair to the pregnant girl. Jack hand her the microphone.

"So, have you guys enjoying yourself so far?" Jack asked the partygoers, who raised their glasses with limited enthusiasm. "Well, Ms. Fabray and I are here to entertain you." Nothing. "So, don't get too excited."

Jack strummed on his guitar.

"We're gonna start you off with a Christmas classic," he said, the small band playing the opening chords of the song.

Quinn noticed a few of the guests perk up a bit at the sound of song. This one was a classic indeed. Her mother and her use to sing it every year. Closing her eyes, she counted the beats, feeling her bottom lip quiver.

If she still believed in Santa, you could probably guess what she was wishing for. Jack took notice of her current condition.

"I can-" he stated in a rather considerate manner.

"No, I'm alright," she protested. "Show must go on, right?"

Jack nodded and handed her the nearby microphone. Shooting her his customary traditional 'break a leg' wink, he returned to playing the guitar. The notes signaled Quinn that it was time to start.

_"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,"_ she sang softly and sincerely, _"Jack Frost nipping on your nose," _her voice gained a little extra strength with each passing lyric,_ "Yuletide carols being sung by a choir," _Closing her eyes again, she slipped into one of her favorite dreams, the one where her mother and father had accepted what had happened, and had welcomed her with open arms,_ "and folks dressed up like Eskimos."_

_"__Everybody,__"_ Jack began to sing, pulling Quinn out of her dream, _"__knows a turkey and some mistletoe help to make the season bright.__"_ His voice dropped an octave as he crooned, _"__Tiny tots, with their eyes all aglow, will find it hard to sleep tonight.__"_

Quinn took over. _"They know that Santa's on his way; he's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh."_

Jack's actual voice returned as he sang, _"__And every mother's child is going to spy, to see if reindeer really know how to fly.__" _

_"And so we're offering this simple phrase,"_ she proclaimed, _"to kids from one to ninety-two." _

Jack dropped to one knee, moving closer to Quinn as he picked at his guitar in time with the band. _**"Although it's been said many times, many ways,"**_ Quinn smiled a real smile for the first time in weeks, months even, _**"Merry Christmas to you."**_

Jack stood up and joined in on a triplet done by the string section of the band. Quinn looked around the room; the audience seemed to have warmed up to them. In fact, a few of the people were dancing slowly to the song.

The music swept her back into the song, _"And so, we're offering this simple phrase, to kids from one to ninety-two."_

_**"Although it's been said, many times, many ways…"**_

Jack's fingers moved across the strings, _"__Merry Christmas…__"_

_"Merry Christmas…" _Quinn added.

The two took it home with the final lyrics, _**"Merry Christmas to you."**_

The audience's applause this time around was a bit enthusiastic, though the sight of an embittered, egotistical balladeer and his pregnant friend were most likely not the entertainment they had been hoping to have.

**0000000000**

Jack led Quinn off the stage while the band stuck around to serenade the guests with melodic and docile Christmas sounds.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Jack asked.

"Water would be fine," Quinn said.

She watched Jack bound off to the refreshment table.

'What is he planning? He's never this nice to me at school. Come to think of it, he doesn't really talk to me either.' Quinn continued to think. 'Maybe he is a nice guy underneath all that bluster. He's acted like a gentleman all night.'

Jack's voice pulled Quinn out of her thoughts. "And a drink for the lady."

Quinn took the drink and downed it in a flash.

"Boy, thirsty and pregnant, that bladder of yours is working double time," he quipped.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Jack placed his glass on the table. "I expected that question to come before we got here, not after."

"Why?" Quinn repeated. "I've know you long enough to know you don't do something unless you have a reason. So what is it?"

Jack studied the blonde girl's face. Scratching the back of his neck, Jack finally spoke.

"Because I wanted to," he said. "Blondie, with that," he pointed to her womb, "on the way and everything that's happened to you this year, you need a little relaxation. I figured this would be a good way to do so." He gestured around the room. "And since I couldn't get Rachel, I figured that this could be my two good deeds of the year. It's actually taken me all year to do them."

"I can believe that," Quinn quipped.

Jack laughed. "But, do you believe what I said?"

He was asking a lot. This was a guy who unleashed a remote control replica of Christine on the Cheerios a year ago and, Coach Sylvester had been pretty sure he tried to seal them in the locker room before unleashing anthrax on them at the beginning of the year. So, trusting him was going to be hard.

"I want too," she said. "You have a bit of a reputation. You know, where you're kind of a horse's ass."

"And you were kind of a bitch," Jack countered. "Wow." He said, a smile forming on his lips. "I'm really enjoying the honesty thing." He looked at her. "Getting off topic. You were kind of a bitch, but you changed. Is it so crazy for you believe that I'm capable of kindness? Genuine kindness."

Quinn didn't get a chance to answer as a nurse appeared behind Jack and whispered something in his ear.

"I thought they'd be in bed by now?" he asked.

"They won't until you visit them," the nurse said.

Jack growled. "I hate going there!"

"But, they love seeing you."

"Aside from the fact that I'm the greatest thing ever, I have no idea."

The nurse turns to Quinn. "And then he wonders why he has no friends?"

"They must really know you."

Jack shrugged, making a confirming noise.

**0000000000**

"All right, I want you guys to meet someone very special," Jack said, stepping back and allowing Quinn to enter the ward. "This is Quinn Fabray. She's gonna be helping me with the songs tonight."

Quinn entered the room, stunned that the awaiting fans were children, the oldest was probably 12 at the oldest and the rest of the group a lot younger.

"Is she your girlfriend?" a frail looking brunette girl, no older than 12, asked.

Jack and Quinn exchanged looks.

"No," Jack said. "She's a…"

"I'm a friend," Quinn replied.

"Good," she said, turning to Quinn. "Cause he's mine."

Quinn laughed as Jack sighed. "I have a bit of a following."

"But, if you're not dating her, how do you remember her name?" a bald little boy asked.

This time, it was Jack's turn to laugh. "I remember her name out of respect."

"You respect people?" the kid countered.

Jack opened his mouth and quickly shut it.

"I hate coming here. These kids have a smartass answer for everything."

"Aw!" the smaller children chorused.

"And now I've gotta go into time out," Jack said drolly.

Quinn snickered as Jack put down his guitar and walked over to corner.

"You kids are pretty strict, eh?" she joked.

"You shouldn't say bad words," a little girl said. "My mommy says it makes God sad. And that's why we have floods."

Quinn almost agreed with the kid until that last one.

"Pretty sure that's not how it works, kid," Jack shouted from the corner. "So, I hear you guys wanted to see me."

There was a buzz in the room confirming to Quinn she hadn't step out of a car and into the _Twilight Zone_. Jack Harmon was actually being nice. He could really, really be nice! A part of her wanted to film this on her phone and post it in YouTube, but the other part of her was too amazed to look away.

"Okay," Jack announced, "you get one song. And then you go to sleep. If you don't, Santa won't bring you anything."

Quinn's jaw dropped. Not so much at what Jack had said to the sick children, but at the fact that all of the children were giggling at that comment.

"It's amazing," Jack said, seemingly reading her mind. "I tell that to children at the mall and they wait for me outside to peg me with snowballs." Beat. "Of course, I also them that Santa is actually an alcoholic transvestite bent on world domination."

And he was back to normal.

"So," Quinn was trying to act casual, "what're we singing?"

Jack scratched his neck. "How familiar are you with _Mary, Did You Know_?"

"Soloist in my church's choir for that song last year," Quinn said confidently.

"That's what I like to hear." Jack nodded to the seat next to him. "The kids love this song. I think I'm gonna change it up. I usually do the Mark Lowery version, but I think this time around I can go the Kenny Rogers-Wynonna Judd route just this once."

Jack strummed on his guitar, a smile forming on his lips: That rare and inviting real smile that few ever saw. This was mostly because those around him were convinced that every time Jack Harmon smiled puppies died.

_"__Mary, did you know,__" _he began gently,_ "__that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water? Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?__" _Quinn looked around the room, seeing how all the kids seemed enthralled by Jack's performance and he seemed so peaceful in their presence. _"__Did you know that your Baby Boy has come to make you new? This Child that you delivered will soon deliver you.__"_

Quinn joined in with the blonde balladeer. _"Mary, did you know…" _

_"__That your Baby Boy will give sight to a blind man?__" _Jack inquired.

_"Mary, did you know…"_

_"__That your Baby Boy will calm the storm with His hand?__" _

_"Did you know that your Baby Boy has walked where angels trod?" _Jack watched the pretty pregnant girl sing, as if the words in the song had an added dimension. There was something in her eyes as she sang,_ "And when you kiss your little Baby, you've kissed the face of God?"_

_"__Mary did you know…__" _Jack began to play a solo, turning his attention back to the kids.

_"Oh, Mary did you know…"_Quinn trilled under the solo.

Jack's fingers moved against the chords of his guitar, the children now gathered around him and Quinn. The smallest one, a cancer patient of five, climbed into his lap. Quinn watched as the terror of the glee club, who would normally shoot members of the club with a paint-ball gun for touching his guitar, allowed the little boy to play one chord repeatedly as he played the main orchestration of the song.

_"The blind will see," _Quinn sang,_"The deaf will hear. The dead will live again."_

Jack joined in with Quinn,_**"The lame will leap. The dumb will speak the praises of The Lamb." **_

_"Oh," _Quinn let the note hang for a moment, _"Mary, did you know…"_

_"__That your Baby Boy is Lord of all creation?__"_

_"Mary, did you know…"_

_"__That your Baby Boy would one day rule the nations?__"_

Quinn felt the tiny hands of one of the kids tug at her dress. She picked the kid up and sat her in her lap, _"Did you know…"_

_"__Did you know…__"_

_**"That your Baby Boy…"**_

_"Is heaven's perfect Lamb?" _Quinn laughed. _"The sleeping Child you're holding…" _

_"__…is the Great…__"_ Jack sang as he and Quinn exclaimed in unison, _**"I Am!"**_

**0000000000**

Jack escorted Quinn from the van, as his father had stayed behind to help with the clean-up, to the front door of Puck's house.

"I hope you have a good time," Jack said.

"I did," Quinn said. "And I was right about you."

"Right about what?"

"You can be really nice when you wanna be."

"I have no clue what you're talking about. I'm still a horse's ass. I just have sympathy for a drowning soul," Jack turned and walked down the path back to the van. "Merry Christmas, Quinn."

"Merry Christmas, Jack. And thank you."

"You're welcome," Jack said, disappearing into the dark night.

Quinn turned her attention back to the door. The door didn't open on the first twist of the knob.

'Okay,' she thought, looking at her watch, 'they couldn't have gone to bed this early.'

She tried again. Only this time, the door slipped open and she almost stumbled in, getting caught in the waiting arms of Puck.

"'Bout time you got home," he said. "Look, uh, I thought about what you said."

He took her hand, covered her eyes, and led her to the living room.

"Okay, what're you up to?" she asked.

"Just give it a minute," he said. "Ma, are we ready?"

"Yeah," Quinn heard Lisa Puckerman declare.

The lights came on and Puck moved his hand from her eyes. Inside of the living was a Christmas tree complete with tinsel and decorations, an angel on the top.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "What – When – Why?"

"That's a Christmas tree," Lisa quipped, "when you left for the party, and I think Noah forgot to tell you that we're Messianic Jews."

Quinn arched an eyebrow at Puck, who shrugged sheepishly.

"We just never had a reason to celebrate Christmas lately," Lisa commented. "Though, now, I can't say that I'm thrilled with all of this," Quinn and Puck looked down shamefully, "but, a baby is as good a reason as any to celebrate Christmas."

Lisa smiled.

"Now," she said, "let's do this."

She turned on the radio, Mariah Carey's _All I Want for Christmas_ playing in the air. Sarah Puckerman, Puck's little sister, came out of the room and started dancing with her mother. Puck offered Quinn his hand and the two of them started dancing.

**0000000000**

Jack was glad he had worn black that night, it helped him blend in. He could see the Christmas party at the Puckerman household was in full swing and the Pregnoid was smiling again.

"Merry Christmas, Quinn," he said, turning back into the darkness and heading for the HarmCo van waiting for him.

**0000000000**

**A/N: I know it isn't Christmas, but I've wanted to tell a story like this for years. Let's pretend it's July and it's time for Christmas in July.**

**Enough of that rambling, I hope you all enjoyed reading this one, it came from the heart. I'm not sure when I'll start with the back nine, but it should be soon.**

**Until next time, constant readers, until next time…**


	9. Hell O

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

******0000000000**

**Disclaimer, the Second: I can't believe I just realized this, but I have never given credit where it was due: Mitchell Mason belongs to ZeroBen. I apologize for not saying it sooner, but thanks a lot for letting me use your character and play around in the DifferentVerse. **

**0000000000**

**'There's always a time in high school when a person can look back and say that things have changed. Sometimes, it's for the better, and, uh, sometimes, it isn't. Regardless of what the end results, change happens.' **

Jack sauntered into McKinley High, as he had been doing for a year and half now, a little extra spring in his step.

**'Take me, for example, earlier in the year I felt like a recurring character on a wildly popular television. Or a fanfiction attempting to mirror it.'**

He rounded a corner, spotting Kurt, Mercedes, Mitchell, and Rachel as they walked down the sophomore hall.

**'Now, I feel like I've been upgrading to the main cast and, I've got to say, it feels pretty damn good. And things haven't changed just for me.'**

**0000000000**

_On their first day back, Jack sat in the music room, looking up from his book as Rachel and Finn entered the room, Rachel rambling about their couples' schedule. Jack rolled his eyes, happy that his friend was happy, though he could never understand why anyone would want to spend time with the person they were dating. Spending time together just ruins relationships. It's a proven fact. _

_His eyes moved back to his book, only to snap back up when Rachel removed her jacket, revealing her Team Finn T-shirt. Jack felt his lips suck back into his mouth, stopping himself from laughing out loud. _

_Instead he turned away from the scene, still unable to read his book after catching sight of Mitchell, starring at Quinn, who was watching Finn and Rachel, both of them wearing bona fide looks of jealousy on their faces._

**'And for some of us, things have not changed.'**

_Having nowhere else to look, Jack placed his book down and pulled out a coin. _

**'Okay, heads, I look over at this poorly done production of Phantom,'** _in reference to Mitchell and Quinn,_ **'or tails, I have to look at this demented version of Twilight,'** _Rachel and Finn didn't escape his barb, _**'which is redundant.'**

_Jack flipped the coin, catching it and closing his fist. There was a change that happened in the small seconds to perform his task, he could see that Finn's heart was not completely in it when Rachel continued her rant on how they would be the school's new power couple. It was an odd development, but one that gave him hope. _

**0000000000**

In the present day, he waved to them just as the Neanderthal jocks and lowered their revelry with the brutal slushie facial.

**'Like I said, some things ever change. Still, I'm confident that the next assignment will give us the provided pep to keep us moving in forward motion.' **

**0000000000**

When Jack got to the choir room for the Glee club's meeting, he saw that everyone was gathered in their usual chairs. He craned his head around to see that Mr. Schuester was prepping for the lesson. But, something he did notice was the sight of Mitchell with a towel draped over his head like a prize-fighter. He was still recovering from the slushee attack.

Meanwhile, Mr. Schuester was plotting the next assignment, he had an idea, but wasn't sure how to word it. Yet. Jack raised his head, trying to get an idea of what their teacher was hiding from them.

"What's he doing?" Mitchell asked, sitting on the right side of Mike Chang.

"Dude, take that off!" Puck spat. "I feel like there's an Al-Qaeda operative about to attack and it makes me wanna call America's Most Wanted."

"He did get an abnormally large amount of slushee in his hair," Rachel said on Mitchell's behalf.

Jack cringed, "Please tell me you didn't wash out Lamb Chop's hair?"

"I merely did what any friend would do," Rachel explained. "I'd hope you all would do the same for me."

"What I would like to know is how Finn feels about his woman with her fingers in another man's hair?" Santana said with her usual arrogant smirk.

"Grrrrr," Mitchell was still sore about that.

"I don't know," Finn answered. "I mean, at least, she didn't cheat on me."

"Grrrrr," Quinn's turn to release a growl.

'Cause she hasn't spent enough time with me,' Jack thought, a ghost of a grin appearing on his lips.

Mr. Schuester finally decided to address the class, "Hello."

The audience was quiet.

"Hello?" he tried again, gesturing to the stick figure on the board.

"Hello!" they all returned.

"What do you guys say when you answer the phone?"

"What up?" was Mercedes reply.

Artie's came next, "Who this be?"

"Who the hell gave you this number?" Jack answered.

"No. She's dead. This is her son." Kurt said darkly.

Mr. Schue raised an eyebrow at his students. "O-kay. Alexander Graham Bell, inventor of the telephone, liked to say 'Ahoy, Ahoy,' when he answered the phone. It was Edison who first decided that "hello" was a more appropriate greeting."

'I wonder if this is going to have a point?' Jack thought to himself, only to have himself reply, "If it's important to the plot, it will be. We should pay attention.'

"Look," Mr. Schue continued, "I am proud of what you guys did at sectionals. But, as most of you have realized by now, it hasn't made a bit of difference in your day-to-day life at school." He looked at Mitchell. "And Mitchell can attest to that."

"I have slushee soaked training bra to prove it!" blurted Rachel.

"That is not something I would admit too if I were you," Jack commented. "That would like me admitting I still wear pull-ups."

Everyone looked at him.

Jack groaned. "Which I don't."

Mr. Schue saw the anger and determination in the eyes of his students.

"The fact is," he declared, "we're going to have to be better, even more spectacular at Regionals."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Jack muttered. "Put me in the lead and we've got it in the bag."

"It's time for some reinvention," Mr. Schue wasn't done. This guy was on a roll and he didn't plan to stop, " "So, here's what I want you all to do." Jack listened with great alertness. "Do something you've never done before. Maybe something you haven't done in a long time. Maybe hang out with someone you wouldn't typically hang out with. Meet someone new, listen to new songs. And, I want this all to lead to us possibly reinventing ourselves a little."

Jack's eyebrows arched ever so slightly, but the movement was so quick no one else noticed. This was what he was talking about. Mr. Schuester was finally coming up with a good idea.

'A new 'hello'?' Jack said to himself mentally.

'This could be the shot in the arm we need,' his mental self said.

'And, by 'we', you mean 'me'.'

'Dude, we've been over this before, I am you. And yeah, I do mean we as in us.'

Jack arched an eyebrow. It was rare that anything confused him. Though, as he had once put it so eloquently, nobody confuses Jack Harmon but Jack Harmon.

"So, here's the assignment," Mr. Schuester continued, his voice cutting through Jack's ponderings. "Pick a song with the word 'Hello' in the title, while keeping in mind that I want you to try something new. Something fresh and unexpected, okay?"

The glee director took a breath. He had said his piece, but there was something that was bothering him.

"By the way," he added, "extra credit for whoever gets that ridiculous thing off Mitchell's head."

"Oh my god," Mitchell cried as the mob closed in on him. "MR. SCHUESTER!"

**0000000000**

A song with the word 'Hello' in the title? Interesting assignment. Even more interesting was the addendum for it: do something you haven't done in a long time or never had at all. Hang out with someone you never hung out with. Indeed, this was the shot in the arm his inner monologue had been talking about.

Jack sat at the piano in his room, searching his files in his laptop for the right song. It had to be something memorable, something that showed that he was the most talented male vocalist in the club.

His eyes moved across the screen, observing the possibilities, quickly becoming attached to, at least, two songs. The Doors' _Hello, I Love You_ and the Beatles' _Hello, Goodbye_. Granted, Jack considered, as a quartet, the Beatles to be the most overrated band in the history of music, that didn't mean that they didn't have some kick-ass songs.

"Still, I should go with _Hello, I Love You_," he told himself. 'If it keeps me as far away from that crackpot Lennon, I'll sing the whole Doors music catalogue.'

With that matter settled, Jack let out a breath and closed his eyes. Plotting out choreography in the music room…well, choreography anywhere…always came to him when he was in a sort of meditative position. He leaned back against the wall the piano stool was set up against and began to drink in the solitude and silence.

A solitude and silence that did not last long as his laptop began to 'bing'. Jack's eyes opened and he sat up, switching out of the internet window and onto the message that appeared on the screen.

It was from one of his contacts inside of Carmel. The information he had been waiting for had arrived. Carter had finally come through.

Jack opened the attachment and a wicked grin formed on his lips. In front of him was the floor plan to Carmel High School and all the points of vulnerability in the building. Jack's head craned back, stopping at the surveillance equipment that he had removed from the third floor and put in his room prior to Christmas break.

Normally, they wouldn't have sat there for as long as they had, but he had been so busy actually interacting with the glee club over the break, he hadn't been able to find the time.

"Maybe this weekend," he murmured to himself. Looking back at the floor plan, he studied the size of the school. "Though, he could be a two-person job."

An accomplice, maybe? Someone to catch the hell in case the plan went south. Not that it would, but Jack Harmon didn't make it this far without being cautious.

**0000000000**

_"Hello!"_ Finn sang out, moving through the room, getting swoons from almost all of the girls in the room…and Kurt._ "Hello! I want you,"_ his tone was flirtatious and smooth. _"I need my baby. So hello! Hello!"_ he brought the song, _"Hello!" _

The club applauded for their leader when the song ended. Jack had to confess, it was pretty good, though that didn't change the fact that he had stolen his choice before he had a chance to sing the damn song.

Okay, so he had to change his plans because the giant had beaten him to the punch. Wasn't the first time. But, damn it, it would be the last time.

"That was amazing," Jack heard Kurt comment as Rachel commented about her hello suggestions to Mr. Schue.

"If you're into lyrical masturbation," Jack said.

"That's disgusting," he took a seat next to him.

"It's what the song is," Jack said. "Hell, every single Doors' song is just that."

"Sounds like someone is a little jealous," Kurt said, checking his nails.

"Please," Jack rolled his eyes. "I have no reason to be jealous. His movements were clunky and he lacked any sort of control. He got by purely on charisma. All I want to do know is listen to the original. And that is," he trailed off as he noticed Finn talking to Brittany and Santana, the girls throwing off all of the tell-tale signs of flirtation, "saying something."

He listened closely to Santana's offer of a date at BreadStix with not just her, but with Brittany. The look on Finn's face told Jack that he was interested.

**0000000000**

Jack knocked on the door of the Berry household, waiting patiently for it to open. When it did, Jack made what he was fairly sure the thing he always did that freaked out new people.

"Holy shit! I didn't know Eugene Levy and Samuel L. Jackson were a real couple? I loved you guys in _The Man_."

Hiram and Leroy Berry exchanged confused looks; this was clearly the boy Rachel had told them about.

"Is Rachel in?" Jack asked, realizing that he was making the older men uncomfortable.

"She's upstairs," Hiram said, pointing to the stairway. "It's the last door at the end of the hall."

"Okay," Jack stopped as his foot hit the steps. He craned around and looked at Rachel's dads. "Before I go up," he pointed to Leroy, "can you say go, 'Say what again! Say what again! I dare you. I double dare you!'"

Leroy glared at Jack, which told him that he should just go upstairs and talk to Rachel, but looking over at Hiram, he just couldn't resist.

"Can you say, 'Keep it real, homies'."

The two men looked at Jack with a face he always saw when he looked into the mirror.

"I'll just go talk to Rachel," he pointed up the stairs, feeling the tensions in the room.

He walked to Rachel's room as quickly as was deemed polite in society. He could hear Barbra's voice filling the room, _Some Good Things Never Last_ to be more precise, and it was playing on loop.

This was not good.

Jack opened the door gently and found Rachel on her bed. He couldn't tell if she was crying or not, but the fact that she hadn't reacted to his presence, so it had to be bad.

"Rachel?" he said over the music. "It's Jack."

Rachel looked up from her bed, quickly wiping his eyes.

"You okay?" he asked. "Cause Barbra on loop is never a good sign." He crossed over to her iPod. "Idina on loop, however, is a little more uplifting."

He picked up the iPod and switched it to _The Life of the Party_ by Idina Menzel. Jack glided across the room in a jaunty manner before dropping backwards onto Rachel's bed.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.

Rachel propped herself up on her arms and looked at Jack. Jack let out a gentle breath, waiting for her to give him the answer. It just didn't feel right, having to wait for her to say something about her sort of boyfriend to him. Granted, this was the best friend's job, but there was something in the back of his mind that made him wish it didn't have to be this way.

Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing would have to be analyzed later because Rachel silenced his thought with a…

"Is there something wrong with me?"

"No," Jack's response was quick. "There's nothing wrong with you, Rach." He sat up and she followed his lead. "Honestly, I think there's something wrong with him."

Rachel tilted her head to side. "No. I've had so many chances with him and I've screwed up every time. It has to be me."

"Okay. Granted, you have had chances, but who always screwed them up?"

"I…"

"No. It was him." Jack tentatively moved his hand towards Rachel's. "Okay, let's run down the scenarios. Manipulating you back into the glee club. Made you slut yourself. Dating Pregnoid through it all." Each one was a brutal truth. "I know you like the guy, but he clearly doesn't know what he's missing out on."

Rachel was quiet.

"So, the way I see, you should embrace this newfound independence. Find your new hello, like Mr. Schue said. Let your hair down and let him have it."

Rachel arched an eyebrow at him. "How?"

"Well, my last relationship ended on a sour note, so I snuck into her house and wired all of the electronics together and set it on a pressure trigger. When she opened the door, she was hit with the loudest and most obnoxious music in the world. I'm reasonably certain that I managed to deafen her, her entire family, and most of the surrounding block."

Rachel's face gave off that "I don't think I could do that" look.

"I don't think I could do that." See what I mean.

"I'm not saying you have to," Jack said. "Just show him you don't need him. That he hurt you and you can hurt him just as badly. The Rachel Berry I know wouldn't let something like this bring her down. She'd rise above it."

_"I wake up every evening,"_ Rachel's iPod sang, _"with a big smile on my face and it never seems out of place!"_

Jack and Rachel exchanged a sinister look. The Stepford Cuckoos connection had been rejoined and she knew what she needed to do. And maybe she could help another friend in the process.

**0000000000**

Jack was walking down the cobblestone path of the Berry household, hoping into the ubiquitous black van, and disappearing into the setting sun.

"Your friend is very interesting," Hiram commented when he was sure Jack was out of earshot.

"He would take that as a compliment," Rachel replied.

"Yeah," Leroy said next. "We don't want him in the house anymore."

"Why?" Rachel was stunned. Her fathers had always wanted her to have a friend they could see. Now she had one and they didn't want him around.

"Well, you weren't here for our meeting," Leroy explained. "When he said…"

**0000000000**

Jack was on his feet, applauding for Rachel and Mitchell as they finished _Gives You Hell_. During the performance, they had laced into Finn and Santana for the past and present sins. Jack had to admit, seeing Bambi finally growing a set was a great moment. But, he had all his praise saved for Rachel. She seemed to be back to the girl he had first met during auditions for _Cabaret_ and that made him kind of tingly inside. A feeling he wasn't used to, but he would bear with it for her sake.

"Good performance, but," Mr. Schuester stepped in as everyone calmed themselves down, "I hate to say this because I don't want to be a buzz-kill. The assignment was Hello."

"Mitchell and I were focusing on the first syllable," Rachel made everyone aware, especially

Finn.

"You know what," Mr. Schuester had his hands on his hips, a tell-tale sign that he meant business, "While we were winning our competition at sectionals, Vocal Adrenaline was busy winning theirs." Something Jack had known about. "They're three time national champions," he drove the point. "They have never lost."

'Every streak ends.'

'Except for Taker's.'

"Of course. That would be blasphemy if it ever did."

"If we don't place at regionals," Mr. Schue said, his voice baring the seriousness of their problem, "then glee club is officially closed... Permanently."

Ominous words from the Director as the school bell rang and everyone started filing out of the room. However, two stayed back for a minute: The two being Mitchell and Rachel.

Jack looked back, unsure of what they were talking about. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack caught sight of Quinn staring back at them. She didn't have that look of full-bore jealousy on her face, but it was just enough to stoke Jack's curiosity. A curiosity that demanded to be sated.

**0000000000**

Quinn was walking down the hall when Jack slinked out from the music room, drawing in a deep breath before shouting:

"CALLING ALL PREGNOIDS!"

Stunned, a bit humiliated, and sort of annoyed, Quinn looked over her shoulder to find Jack Harmon coming up from behind. He seemed his usual self, albeit with a little added extra swagger. No doubt brought upon by the recent break-up between Finchel.

"What do you want, Jack?" Quinn was clearly annoyed. Though one could always chalk it up to the pregnancy, as well as the fallout of her deception of her ex. Not that any of that stuff mattered to Jack as he stopped at her side.

"Just looking for some curiosity to be quenched," he explained, arriving at her side with a hard to hide grin on his face.

"You might as well ask her out, you know? If nothing else, she'd go out with you just to get back at Finn."

"Good to know," he noted. "But, not the root of my curiosity."

Quinn took a breath, leaning back against the wall beside a set of lockers, "Okay, what is it?"

"Why did you start dating the Mohawk Jew?"

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

Quinn sighed, "No, I mean…Do you seriously not know the answer to that?"

"Bambi would be a wiser choice," he said, causing Quinn to perk up from the lockers, "What? It's obvious."

"Puck's the father of my baby," she said, "and Mitchell and I are just friends."

Jack laughed.

"Oh my god," Quinn said, walking away from the lockers, "what's gotten into you?"

"Bambi would follow you into the depths of the underworld." Jack felt like he was stating the obvious. "He's completely taken with you. And, what New Directions needs these days is stability."

"I'm not having this conversation," Quinn turned on her heels and started walking away.

"You're afraid of something," Jack could sense it. It was right there. He just needed to pull it into view. "But, of what? What could the ex-head cheerleader possibly be afraid of? What causes her to tremble so much that she refuses to make a wise decision?"

Quinn stopped suddenly, "That's enough, Jack," she craned around, her finger in Jack's face. "I'm not in the mood, and I don't feel like having this conversation with you. I'm with Puck, that's how it's going to be."

Jack took a step back, hands going in his pockets, "Fine." Quinn continued on her way. "But, I saw how you looked at him." She stopped for a moment. "When he and Rachel stayed behind," he added, "I saw how you looked at him."

Quinn shook it off, now a bit upset, and turned a corner, leaving Jack's sight.

**0000000000**

Mitchell exited the book store, hoping that his behavior, his stupid, stupid behavior hadn't scared Michelle off. He crossed down the sidewalk, passing an alleyway, completely ignorant of the fact that Jack had slipped out of said alley and was now following him.

"Bambi!" Jack called out in his grand theater voice.

This caused Mitchell to nearly leave his shoes, sending him toppling to the ground.

"No need to be so dramatic," the balladeer commented, appearing at Mitchell's side and pulling the lighter teen to his feet. "Didn't mean to scare you like that."

Mitchell glared at Jack. "Coulda fooled me!"

"Hey," Jack relased his grip on Mitchell, "do I get pissed at you?"

"What'd you want, Jack?"

Jack pursed his lips. "Funny you should ask." He motioned for Mitchell to follow him.

The taller boy seemed apprehensive. Hell, he didn't seem it, he was apprehensive about following the glee club's resident prankster.

"Don't be afraid," Jack said. "I don't bite."

"Hard," Mitchell said, immediately regretting it the minute it came out of his mouth.

"You'd like to rephrase that, wouldn't you?"

"A little bit."

"We'll just pretend you didn't say it. How 'bout that?"

"Seems fair," Mitchell said, not looking at Jack.

Jack bid Mitchell to follow him, which Mitchell did.

"So," Jack began, "I was on my laptop a few days when I got an email from one of my contacts at Carmel."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper. Handing it to Mitchell, he explained further:

"It's the floor plan to Carmel High School. Highlighted are the key sites for Vocal Adrenaline," he took a breath before speaking again. "Now, I had a plan earlier in the year to break into Carmel," Mitchell's eyes went wide. "Not to sabotage them, of course. Though, I was planning on keeping an eye on them."

"You do realize that that's illegal?" Mitchell pondered.

"I know that. Not like I planned on getting caught. The surveillance equipment is top of the line HarmCo. Only I and certain members of NASA understand how it works. So," he drew out his next words in that arrogant drawl he seemed to have perfected, "the chances of getting caught are slim at best."

"And you're telling me this, why?" Mitchell asked, knowing that he wouldn't like the answer.

"Well," Jack said. "I realized, and this is hard for me to say, that I might not be able to do this alone."

He was right. He didn't like the answer.

"And I was hoping that you would join me on this little adventure."

Definitely didn't like the answer.

"I mean," Jack let out a dramatic breath, "I could take Mohawk Jew, but I've got a feeling that he would use my plans as ample ammo for getting me into trouble."

"You never worry about that," was Mitchell's counter.

"True," Jack said. "But, he would lay it on thick for Mr. Schue and, if there's any teacher I don't want to be in trouble with, it's Mr. Schue." Jack shrugged, "Not because I'm worried about his temper, but…"

"You wouldn't have a chance at a solo if he found out?"

"Precisely. You catch on quick, Bambi."

"What makes you think I won't tell him?"

Jack pursed his lips. "Hmm, valid thought. But, I don't think you would."

It was Mitchell's turn to raise an eyebrow at the egotistical blonde.

"Do you know why I do the things I do?" Jack asked.

"Not really," Mitchell answered.

"I do it to push myself," he said, "to feel alive. You, on the other hand, do what you do for what reason? Because of instinct, to avoid trouble? Yet, you seem to get into trouble without looking for it."

Mitchell just stared at Jack. What was he getting at?

"I suggest that, for once, you go looking," Jack said, placing a note in Mitchell's coat pocket. "Besides, if the current trend is any indication of her type, what girl doesn't like a bad boy?"

Jack slinked away, leaving Mitchell alone to try and catch the inference of his final comment. Mitchell reached into his pocket, unfolding the note and reading it.

**Meet me at Carmel on Sunday** was all it said.

**0000000000**

"Actually, no, Rachel," Jack said. It was always easier to reject her over the phone. "I'm working on a project I've put off too long today. But, I did want to say something to you this Monday…No, I don't want to say it over the phone…I'll talk to you then."

Jack hung up his phone. Everything was in place and everything was working in his favor. He would have a heads up on the competition and a date with Rachel, all within two days of each other. Life was sweet.

Jack turned his attention to his equipment.

Pulling together the boxes for his trek to Carmel hadn't been as hard as he expected. I mean, when your father owns the company, you tend to get a little leeway from the staff. Especially when you promise that they would get gloves when they wiped up chemical residue.

But, the situation that taken some time, so Jack had faked being sick in order to miss out on a couple of days of school. He looked at his watch. He had delivered another note to Mitchell via his contact, Buckley, with the time for their little adventure. Now, all it would take was a little patience that Bambi would not chicken out.

Jack hid the boxes back behind the school, making sure they were out of view as he unloaded the equipment. One little camera chip and microphone for each point inside of Vocal Adrenaline's fortress. They were beautiful. With these in place, he would know every move the club made. And that could work to his advantage.

Jack's ears perked up as he heard the sounds of footsteps. They sounded clunky and out of place for a covert mission. It had to be Bambi.

Jack looked out to see Mitchell standing alone. As he had expected, the kid had no idea on how to be covert.

"Way to stand out!" Jack shouted, which nearly made Mitchell leap out of his skin.

Jack stepped out of the alley.

"No, I mean, seriously," he continued. "I'm all for theatricality, but wearing all black is going make us stand out."

Mitchell was, indeed, decked out in black pants and a black t-shirt. Jack, on the other hand, was wearing on his casual weekend suits.

"Your note said to be covert," Mitchell argued.

"It said, 'reasonably'," Jack countered. "It's not important what the note said. The important thing is that you're here."

Jack tossed him a mic and cam chip.

"Here's how it's going down," he explained. "There are four main points of coverage we need to worry about: The director's office, the choir room, the auditorium, and their private cafeteria."

"They get a cafeteria?"

"Yeah, and from what I read, it's one of the best in the Ohio area. Better most restaurants actually."

Those Carmel kids were lucky bastards to say the least.

"You're coming with me to the choir room," Jack said. "I'll show you how to install them. Then you'll handle the cafeteria while I handle the director's office and the auditorium. We clear?"

Mitchell nodded.

"Okay. Time to roll."

The two walked into the school with a brisk confidence on their parts. In Mitchell's case, it was only because he knew that the VA kids were sort of like prisoners in their own choir, so the odds of them getting caught were so low that he was stunned Jack wanted him to come along.

"So, why did you invite me?" Mitchell asked.

"I need a reason?"

"C'mon Jack, it only took a couple of days for me to figure it out, but you don't do anything without having a reason."

Mitchell knew he was right. And Jack knew that he was right. And he knew that Jack knew that he was right. Everybody got that?

"And you wouldn't be wrong," Jack said. "I brought you here to up your creditability."

Mitchell raised an eyebrow at the blonde prankster.

"Curious, aren't you? Well, I will explain."

Jack and Mitchell reached the choir room, checking around for stragglers or the dying. Whichever came first.

"You see, with the destruction of Finchel," Jack began, though saying that word made him a little queasy, "the glee club is strapped for a symbol of stability, a couple that can hold it together. You and Dry Dock were not it, Mohawk Jew and the Pregnoid are certainly not what he need right now, and, let's be honest, Wheels and Jinx just don't have the 'it' factor."

Jack leapt onto a pile of stacked chairs, Mitchell cringing at the possibility of having to do something like that. With his luck, he'd be lucky if he just broke his neck.

"Watch carefully, Bambi, because I'm only going to show you this once." Jack placed the cam chip on the wall, in a section most center to the room. "You need to place the camera near the one part of the room where you know it'll get the most footage."

Jack dropped to the ground with great grace. He moved to the center mast of the room, placing the mic chip in the most inconspicuous spot.

"Now, bear in mind, all of the rooms will be different so you have to use good judgment on where you place each chip." He looked at Mitchell. "Then again, that doesn't seem to be your forte."

"Did you drag me down here just to insult me?" Mitchell snapped.

"On the contrary," Jack said. "I dragged you down here to help you."

Jack motioned for them to exit the room.

"As I was saying, the glee club needs a new power couple," Jack declared. "A couple that's strong, a couple that's stable, a couple that's not so fraught with drama."

"That doesn't explain why I'm here?"

"I'm getting to that," Jack said as they reached the split off point. "You and the Pregnoid could be that couple."

Mitchell felt his intestines clamp together.

"What?" he shouted.

"Be quiet!" Jack exclaimed. "And I'm serious. The group lacks stability. And you two clearly care about each other."

"As friends," Mitchell said.

Jack laughed. "Seriously? She said the same thing to me and I didn't believe it for a second. You look me in the eyes and tell me that what you feel for her is completely platonic."

Mitchell did, in fact, look Jack in the eyes, but his response almost through him for a loop. "You look me in the eyes and say the same thing about Rachel. You two are more glee club than anyone else."

Jack cut him off. "Because, in order to be a part of the power couple, there are certain rules one must abide by. And I, clearly, don't feel the inclination to do so."

"So, you're throwing it on me? You know, I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt when everyone else called you crazy. But, they're right. You are insane. Quinn and me as a power couple?"

"What's so crazy about that?"

Did he really need to be reminded of the issues?

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly Mr. Popular and she's pregnant."

"Temporary situations, at worst," Jack said. "I mean, I didn't say it has to be a public thing, just in the glee club. Show them that, no matter what happens, we have each others' backs. We need to be more reunited than ever if we want to win at Regionals. You know it and I know it."

Mitchell was silent.

"So, how does bringing me down here have anything to do with me and Quinn as a couple?" he finally asked.

"From what I've gathered, she clearly likes bad boys. A little rumor spreads around about you breaking into Carmel, she might just think twice about you being just a regular guy."

Mitchell turned away from Jack. "I can't believe this."

"You must," Jack said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

Mitchell began to walk toward the cafeteria. "So, do you wanna meet here?"

"No," Jack said, "I've got to get into the auditorium after the director's office. That room is close to an exit. We can leave from there. I marked it down on the map Buckley gave you."

"Right," Mitchell said, before disappearing into the hallway of the school.

'He'll understand what I'm trying to do,' Jack thought. 'It's not like I'm asking him to be infected with a chestburster.'

'Ever think about how bad it would hurt if he actually went through with what we suggested. It would be the same thing.'

'Okay, maybe it's not the most ideal circumstances. But, we need something.'

'I know. But, give it time, we'll find the answer.'

'I hope you're right.'

'Dude, I'm you, of course I'm right.'

**0000000000**

Now, remember how I had mentioned that Jack had missed out on some things while calling out sick. Well, the fact that Rachel had been on a date with Jesse had been one of them. She had not told him because, well, she knew he would react just as badly, if not worse than the others. So, she had withheld the truth from here for the first time since they had known each other.

Jack was blissfully unaware of this as he entered the auditorium, the last microphone and camera chip in his hand. He was setting up the camera chip when he heard…

"Jesse?"

He whipped around to see Rachel in the room. What in the hell? He dropped out of sight when he saw a shadow on the wall. It had to be one of those damned Drakhs that possessed every Vocal Adrenaline coach.

Rachel was still calling out to Jesse when a spotlight snapped on, making her shine in it's light.

"Who is there?" Rachel asked. "I carry a rape whistle."

Jack was about to react when Jesse St. James emerged from the shadows. Jack recognized him instantly. He was the constant subject of the glee blogosphere. Meaning the one blog that actually pays attentions to glee clubs. Regardless, he was a costant subject and, from what Jack had seen of videos, very talented. Nowhere near as good as him, but that was neither here nor there. The more important question was why in the high holy hell was Rachel looking for him.

"Most spots are 2,500 watts, this one is ten times brighter," he said pointing to the spotlight. "We have to wear sunscreen onstage, but it's worth it.

"Guess everything is bigger and brighter here," Rachel said.

Jesse switched off the light and began moving toward Rachel, kind of like the way an interested party circles a romantic intention.

"I have to ask you something," Rachel said, "and I need you to tell me the truth, otherwise there will be consequences – life and death consequences." This was serious. "Because if I give myself to you," she explained further, "and it turns out that you're just playing me, I might die."

Beat.

"Okay, not literally, but emotionally. It'll be the kind of heartbreak that girls like me hold for the rest of their lives. Like Barbra in 'The Way They Were'."

Jesse wrapped his arms around Rachel, laughing, "Oh my God."

"What?" Rachel asked, pulling away.

"You're more of a drama queen than I am," he said with a smile on his face.

After a moment, he held out a hand to Rachel

"Hi, I'm Jesse."

"I know who you are."

"You know Jesse St. James, the star of Vocal Adrenaline, your competition at Regionals." He seemed sincere. Jack wasn't sure how to handle the situation. "I wanna introduce you to Jesse," he finally ended this speech with a clear, "the guy who is nuts about you. The guy who would never hurt you."

"No one must know," Rachel insisted.

"I understand," Jesse replied.

Jack stood up and quietly exited the auditorium, unsure of how to process what he had just seen. Rachel was with Jesse St. James? When? How? Why?

No, no, no. He had to be calm and rational about this. He buried his face in his hand and went about trying to realign his thoughts.

Okay, Rachel was dating the male lead to Vocal Adrenaline. This could work to his advantage. But, she was still dating him. He could use that to bilk info out of all the parties. But, she is still dating him. He could try to befriend Jesse and trick him into giving Vocal Adrenaline's secrets. But, Rachel would still be dating him.

"Hey, Jack!" Mitchell's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "I got the last one in."

"Good!" Jack said.

"Did you plant the one in the auditorium?" Mitchell asked.

"Yeah," Jack's response was simple, but there was distance in his voice. "I did it."

"Are you alright?" Mitchell asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Jack countered. "Let's get out of here."

Mitchell followed after Jack, unsure as to why Jack was so suddenly so mad. And why it was so noticeable.

**0000000000**

"I like it, Jack," Mr. Schue said. Jack had surprised him with not only song, but with something else. "Are you sure you don't want to take the lead? It is your song after all."

"Positive," Jack answered. "I don't care for the group. But, I think it'll work for us."

That Monday, Jack entered the music room, wishing that someone would say something, anything to provoke him. That way no one would question why he was in such a noticeably foul mood.

"Jack," Rachel's disposition was bright and chipper. To be honest, he was rather revolted by it. "How was your weekend?"

Jack shrugged. "It was fine. I found my hello song."

"That's wonderful," she said. "I can't wait to hear it."

Okay. Now, please don't ask bring up the other thing.

"What was you wanted to say to me?"

Crap. Time to think fast.

"Oh, well," Jack began to spin a new lie. "I talked to Mr. Schuester and he agreed that my hello song could be the group's new hello song." She seemed to swallow it. "Maybe show that I'm willing to share."

"Are you singing lead?"

"No."

"Wait," Rachel could sense something was wrong. "You've wanted a big group solo since you joined and now you're passing it up. That doesn't sound like you."

"Well, I don't care for the group that sings it, as whole. Individually, I enjoyed their work. Except for John."

"So, which one was it?"

Jack stood up and walked over the band, who were getting ready for the next performance. He pulled the guitar away from it's owner and with a quick move of the stolen pick, opened with the bassline, the sequence transforming to the auditorium and a rousing declaration of…

_"__You say yes," _Finn sang passionately,_ "I say no, you say stop and I say go, go, go. Oh, no!' _

_**"You say goodbye and I say hello! Hello! Hello!"**_ The group joined in with Finn. As it turned out Mr. Schue had been right about the solidarity thing. They looked and sounded better than ever. They weren't ready for Regionals, but they were on the right track.

_**"I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello! Hello! Hello! I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello!"**_

_"__I say high,__"_ Finn and Rachel declared, the former giving the latter the eyes, the eyes that said he wasn't giving up. And, despite her best efforts not to be effected by them, she was, _"__you say low, you say why, and I say I don't know. Oh, no!__"_

Jack watched Rachel as she performed. She was hiding her relationship with Jesse from everyone. More importantly, she was hiding it from him. This was not a good sign.

_**"You say goodbye and I say hello! Hello! Hello!" **_

Mr. Schue had also been right about another thing. Jack had discovered something new about himself with this assignment. He had discovered his ugly, jealous side.

_**"I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello! Hello! Hello! I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello!"**_

Still, at least, he had his eyes and ears on Vocal Adrenaline. So, this week wasn't a total wash.

**0000000000**

**A/N: Hey! Guess what, I'm not dead! I just have a job. Which is kind of like being dead, but with money. So, my update may be a little late. Still, I am determined to finish this tale and Jack's journey through McKinley regardless of the obstacles put in front of me.**

**So, um, feel free to give me your thoughts on the chapter. Do I still got it?**


	10. The Power of Madonna

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

**0000000000**

_It was night time. That magic time of the evening when the only people inside of a building were the lollygagging janitorial staff and hooligans out to cause trouble. In was during that time that a figure moved through the halls of William McKinley High School. _

_This figure was in the building to cause neither trouble or clean the building. No, his intentions were slightly more personal, if not a little unusual. _

_He crossed the halls covertly, knowing that if he were spotted he would either be tossed frm the building or be dragged into a spree of trouble-making that was about as uninventive as that terrifying gay love child of Pikachu and Sonic the Hedgehog. _

_That was not going to happen. When he reached his destination, he opened the door to the music room. Scanning around, he found no one. _

**"Good,"** _he muttered to himself as he closed in on his final destination: The supply closet._

_He opened the door and slipped right in. Shutting the door behind him, the small enclosed space was soon filled with the light, almost totally stealthy snores of one Jack Harmon. _

**0000000000**

"Just do what I do," Santana advised. "Don't say 'no'."

"Totally," Brittany stated, "what's the worst that could happen?"

There was an awkward silence as Santana nudged her friend, pointing over to the best answer to "what's the worst that could happen?"

"Sorry, Quinn."

The conversation continued, Mercedes citing that she couldn't wait for a guy to pissed at her for telling him 'no' while Tina mentioned Artie's insensitive speech about how she had to change her looks to be with him.

"Hey, guys," Mr. Schuester interjected, "don't wanna interrupt the sorority meeting, but are you really having that much boy trouble?"

"You wouldn't understand Mr. Schue. You're a guy." Quinn stated.

"It's just that-" Rachel stopped speaking for a moment; there was a new sound in the room. Was somebody snoring? "Does anyone else hear that?"

"Yeah," Quinn whispered.

"Where's it coming from?" Tina asked.

Mr. Schue and the others listened carefully. Well, Brittany cowered behind Santana as the other girls listened for the snore.

"Santana, what if it's a ghost?" Brittany asked.

"It's not a ghost, Britt," Santana gritted. "Ghosts aren't real."

"They are in the Scooby-Doo movies."

Mr. Schue and girls exchanged the usual "WTF" look that comes with being associated with Brittany before Rachel spoke up.

"I think it's coming from the supply closet."

The snore grew louder when they focused on the supply closet.

"Okay, one of us has to see what it is?"

Quinn looked at Rachel. "We do?"

"Yeah, Berry," Santana added. "I don't normally take the advice from Tubbers," Quinn shot a glare at Santana, "but…maybe we should get the hell out of here."

"I knew it was a ghost."

"Brittany!"

"What if it's the Chupacabra?"

Mercedes craned her head around to the dimwitted Cheerio, unsure of what to say. That seemed to be a rule in the glee club that, at least once a day, Brittany would say something that no one had a counter for. They would merely stare at her incredulously. Today was Mercedes' turn.

"It's probably nothing that bad…" Mr. Schue was at a loss.

"Besides," Mercedes added. "They're sleeping, whoever they are."

"Just don't get eaten," cautioned Brittany.

Mr. Schue approached the closet prudently, not realizing that Rachel and Quinn were a few steps behind him. He placed his hand on the doorknob and pulled the door open. A sharply-dressed figure fell from the closet and landed on the ground, not moving a muscle despite the force of its collision with the floor.

Mercedes moved first, turning the figure over. It was Jack, still snoring away. Rachel dropped to the ground and began shaking her friend.

"Jack? Jack? Jack?"

Quinn managed to crouch down next to the sleeping tenor and the diva trying to shake him awake. She started shaking Jack as well. Jack's eyes fluttered open; he yawned and stretched on the floor. He look at Rachel and then at Quinn.

"Oh man," he said groggily, "I'm having that dream again."

Rachel and Quinn exchanged surprised looks as Jack sat, taking notice to the other girls in the room.

"What in the hell are you guys doing in…" he looked around, losing any traction with this train of thought, "…the music room. Was I sleeping in the supply closet?"

"Yeah," Quinn replied.

Jack made a noise that sounded like a drone. "So long as I right about where I was sleeping."

He rubbed his head and pulled himself to his feet.

"Last time I sleep clothed," he stretched and began to walk toward the door. "Rachel, have I missed anything today?"

"Nothing special."

As the bell rang and the girls began to file out of the room, Quinn turned to Mr. Schue.

"The point is Mr. Schue, women still earn 70 cents to every dollar that a man does for the same job. That attitude starts in high school."

That left the teacher with some food for thought as the pregnant teen exited the room.

**0000000000**

"What the hell was the Pregnoid yammering about?" Jack asked Rachel while they walked through the halls of McKinley. "I wasn't really listening. I heard something about 70 cents and I spaced out."

"She was talking about how, despite the great strides women have made, men still don't respect us the way that they should."

Jack nodded. "Makes sense. That's kind of why I'm glad I'm a guy. No offense."

"None taken," Rachel said. "So, why were you sleeping in the supply closet?"

"A very good question," he replied. "One that I can try to field later, but we have to clear the air about something that's been weighing on my mind for the last couple of days."

"All right," Rachel said, bracing for whatever bombshell her friend was about to drop.

"I know you're seeing Jesse!"

"What? No! No, I'm not." Beat. "How did you know?"

Jack laughed. "There's not a lot of things that take place in the glee club that I don't know. I'm just letting you know that I personally think you did the right thing not telling anyone."

"You're not upset?" Rachel asked. "Because I know we said that we wouldn't withhold the truth about anything from each other."

"I fine with it." He wasn't. "I just wish you had told me sooner. I'm a lot more helpful in Romeo and Juliet situations when I know what the hell's going on." He is.

"Thank you." Rachel hugged her friend. "Now that that's out of the way. Why were you sleeping in the supply closet?"

"I'll tell you later," Jack said, popping open his locker door and his satchel dropping into his arms. "You have a class to get too and so do I."

Rachel pursed her lips. Best not to push. Jack would tell her why when he wanted to. Considering that he kept his mouth shut about her and Jesse, it was the least she could do.

**0000000000**

_Now, you must being asking yourself, Constant Reader, why is Jack sleeping in a supply closet? And maybe you're not. Well, regardless of whether or not you are wondering, I'll tell why. _

_As it has been stated, Jack is the son of one of the most successful men to ever live in Lima…possibly the world if not for all of those frivolous lawsuits. Unfortunately for young Mr. Harmon, that success comes at a price. The price being, sometimes, Jack is left alone for extended periods of time. _

_Such was the case only yesterday. He had returned home. _

**"Dad?"**_ Jack called out as he stepped into the foyer of the well-maintained Tudor-style mansion he and his father called home. _**"Dad?"**

_Jack crossed into the hallway, entering Kristopher's office. The old man was nowhere to be found. _

**"Dad?"**_ Jack repeated, shutting the door and heading for the kitchen. _

_He crossed the island where he spotted a note. His eyes perused it. His father had been called out of country because of an experiment gone wrong in Marrakesh. He couldn't go into details, but if they didn't want a repeat of the whole Chernobyl Farm incident, he wouldn't be in town for a few weeks. _

_Jack placed the note in the garbage can and sighed. Looking around the empty house, he found himself, for the first time, in a long time, unsure of what to do. _

_Rachel and Jesse were going to a Wiggles concert. He was thankful for the bugs he had placed all over the school especially the library where the two had their clandestine rendezvous. A little melodramatic for his taste, but he could see where Rachel would be drawn in. _

_No, it was best to leave her to her date. She wanted something like this for so long that she didn't need her friend ruining it for her because he was lonely. _

_Jack took a seat in the living room, turning on the television. He wasn't really interested in the repeats of __**I Love New York**__, but the cacophonous sound of the irritating slut and her foul-mouthed suitors was, at least, a reprieve from the silence. _

_That reprieve didn't last long. That was when Jack decided to return to the school. A place where there were people, if only for a few more hours. _

**0000000000**

In hindsight, that had not been one of his better plans, so he had to find another way to be surrounded by people when his father wasn't around. A place where no one knew him or cared about why he was spending time in the place he was spending time.

But, where?

**0000000000**

New Directions was in the choir room, waiting for Mr. Schuester to arrive. Yesterday, he had assigned a brand new project. They were tackling Madonna. Not one of Jack's favorite singers, but any woman that was talented enough to have Sondheim do an entire movie soundtrack for her certainly had a good quality or two.

Regardless of his personal feelings, Jack had to disagree with Mr. Schue's reasoning for creating this assignment. Jack was a firm supporter of equal rights. I mean, what's the fun of making fun of people that weren't on equal footing? But, he felt that this was not the time for the sort of lesson. Regionals was only a few months away and they needed to focus on that, not on empowering themselves.

"How are we doing on the assignment?" Mr. Schue asked.

"I gotta repeat what I said before, Mr. Schue," Puck was the first to speak. "This assignment sucks. Madonna is all about female empowerment. Sure, for girls, that's cool. But, for guys, it's a whole different story."

"Ahem," Kurt cleared his throat.

"Sorry," Puck groaned. "I mean real guys."

"Oh, that is just wrong," Kurt turned his head as Jack snickered.

Quinn looked to her boyfriend, "You know, Puck, I for one think Madonna's music can translate to males as well as females. Granted, not as much. But still."

"What if Madonna was a guy," Brittany wondered, "would she be Man-donna?"

"Lord knows I hate to agree with Jew-Jock," Jack said. "But, he's right. This assignment is garbage; Madonna has no business being in show choir. We should focus on Regionals, not personal empowerment."

"I'm surprised, Jack," Rachel said. "I thought you would be up for the challenge?"

"Challenge?" he chuckled sarcastically. "Please, I'm in no way discrediting her talent, but I'll repeat what I said. She has no business in show choir."

"You fear Madonna," Tina smirked.

"Jack Harmon fears nothing," he said confidently.

"Be that as it may," Rachel pressed. "Me thinks Jack is afraid of performing Madonna."

"Refer to my previous statement."

"Then prove it," Mitchell said, standing up and walking to the center of the room with more confidence than a writer pitching a good show to a Fox executive. "How about a bet?"

Jack cocked a brow, intrigued.

"Hey now," Mr. Schuster said. "What's this about?"

"I was planning on doing a Madonna number," Mitchell said, a grin on his father.

"Are you serious, Bambi?" Jack asked.

Mitchell nodded.

"So, what's the bet?" Artie asked.

"Assuming that I'll agree to it," Jack said.

"We both perform Madonna songs," Mitchell explained, "whoever does better, as voted by our friends, wins."

"Hmmm," Jack stood, pondering the proposal. "Could be interesting." It was interesting. "Okay, I'll agree as long as if I win…" He had to make this one good. "New Directions must be renamed…Jack Harmon's New Directions."

"Dude, I don't like this," Finn said.

"Agreed," Mitchell nodded.

"Wait, don't we get a say in this?" Santana mentioned.

"If I win," Mitchell's tone of confident, bordering on arrogant, "then you have to call us all by our real names for the rest of the year."

Did all the air just leave the room?

"Impossible," Jack shook his head. "It isn't by choice, I simply don't remember."

"But, you remember our nicknames," Mercedes pointed out.

"True," Jack agreed, "but, only because they're easier than real names."

"Then we'll pick new nicknames and you'll remember them," Mitchell offered.

"The Almighty Puckasauras," Puck supplied, smirking.

Mercedes tossed out hers, "Chocolate Thunder."

"Gold Star," Rachel said.

"The Hottest Bitch in Lima," was Santana's choice.

Bitch was one of many words used to describe her…

"Mr. Schuester," Brittany said.

"Yes, Brittany?"

"No, that's what I want my nickname to be; Mr. Schuester."

"Now that frightens me," Jack shuddered. "But, if it means that my name will be plastered across every one of your chests, then so be it. Yes, our outfits will feature my name and likeness. Bambi, it's a bet."

Jack placed his hand out and offered it to Mitchell. The taller boy tilted his head to make sure Jack wasn't wearing a joy buzzer before he finally shook his hand.

**0000000000**

_"You know you got me burning up, baby,"_ Mitchell sang and danced in the cafeteria, showing more confidence and theatricality than Jack had ever seen in the teen. _"You know you got me burning up baby."_

The entire room had erupted into a massive dance sequence. He was going for the kill, Quinn seemed into the performance, everything in her body language indicated it.

Mitchell moved in close, right in front of Quinn, inches away, _"Burning up for your love!"_ He exclaimed. _"Burning up for your love!"_

Jack slipped into the shadows. He would have to bring his 'A-game' to trump the kid, but there was something else that he noticed. Mitchell and Quinn were close, really close. To the point where they looked as though they were about to kiss.

"So," he heard Mitchell ask, "Can I count on your vote?"

Quinn was about to answer when Puck came storming out of nowhere toward the two.

"You're done, Mason!" Puck hollered, pulling the moment about, "I told you to back off!"

"You were just flirting with cheerleaders!" Mitchell retaliated.

Jack rested against the wall; this was starting to get interested. Though he had to confess, Mitchell's emotional performance was unexpected. Maybe the kid stood a chance against him after all.

"Stop!"Quinn commanded, moving in between Puck and Mitchell. "Puck, this is just a show for Mitchell's assignment and the bet with Jack."

"Bullshit!"

"We had to pull out all the stops," Quinn designed the lie, "Honestly, would you rather have Jack win and have us be at his mercy for Regionals?"

That stung a little bit.

'I'm not that bad.'

'Yeah, you kind of are.'

'Oh, shut up. I didn't ask your opinion.'

Quinn ripped into the two boys, both of whom had a look on their face that was a cross between anger, shame, and absolute defeat.

She pointed to them both. "Stay away from me!"

And like that, she was out of the cafeteria so fast that she didn't even bother to notice that Jack was standing by the doors. He watched the pregnant girl vanish from sight and turned his attention back to the scene in cafeteria.

For one to understand how this was playing out in Mr. Harmon's head, one must remember that for almost all of his life, Jack has gone after the things he's wanted. To him that was the true meaning of empowerment.

However, in a few moments, Mitchell Mason had shown that he had something of that same spark that Jack had always possessed. He was going after something he wanted.

Empowerment had brought him to this and it hadn't ended the way he thought it would. It was something for Mr. Harmon to think about.

**0000000000**

Jack was lying in a motel room, trying to sleep. The sounds of people entering and leaving the room had relaxed him, but the sounds of the more disreputable noises that rang from the rooms that surrounded the room that Jack was currently in.

The motel was another attempt at circumventing his loneliness without having to ask for help. Again, it was not one of his better ideas, but it was better than nothing…and it gave him some ideal blackmail information for later in the future.

**0000000000**

**"So, you want a room for the night?"** _the clerk repeated from behind his desk, his tone that of indifference to the idea that he might be providing a minor with a motel room._

**"Yeah,"** _Jack replied, sliding a crisp 50 dollar bill across the desk._

**"Well,"** _the clerk eyed the money before handing Jack the room key,_ **"Mr. Grant, I hope you enjoy your stay."**

**"Same here."** _Jack took the key and walked up the stairs to the third floor._

_He made his way to the third floor, spotting something out of the corner of his eye. He saw Finn standing outside of a room. He seemed hesitant, as if he was weighing the situation at hand. _

_Jack slipped into the shadows, watching as the door opened to reveal Santana Lopez standing in the doorway. _

**"I thought you'd never show up,"** _she said, seductively leading Finn into her little den of iniquity._

_The blonde tenor watched the door close, making a note to remember this moment for future reference._

**0000000000**

Jack sat up from the bed and sighed. This plan wasn't working either. Maybe it was time to swallow his pride and accept the fact that he was actually getting used to having friends.

**0000000000**

"I'm glad you two could be here," Jack said, leading Finn and Rachel into the music room. "I've been going through my catalogue of songs and I think I've found the perfect song to trump Bambi with."

Jack cleared his throat and the jazz band entered the room.

"Granted, it's not as big as what he did…"

"You saw that?" Finn asked.

"Yeah," Jack said.

"I didn't see you there," the tall teen said.

"I'm a shadow, Gigantor," Jack stated. "Most people don't even know I'm in the room until it's too late."

Finn looked at Rachel, who shrugged at her dramatic friend's statement.

"So," Rachel asked, "what's the song?"

"_Crazy for You,_"Jack answered. "It's one of my favorite Madonna songs. And, it shows that empowerment doesn't need to be grandiose."

"That's stunning coming from you," Rachel said.

Jack laughed, patting Rachel on the shoulder. "You're finally learning."

Finn watched the easy interplay between the two. It had always been something that made him a little jealous. But, when he and Rachel were sort of together, it wasn't so insecure about the friendship. Now, they weren't. But, Rachel was with Jesse…All of this drama was starting to make Finn's head hurt.

"You okay, Apache Chief?" Jack asked. "I figured, as the captains, you two could check out what I'm planning to do for the others. A sort of preview of coming attractions, if you will."

Jack took off his jacket, resting it on a nearby seat. He stepped to the center of the music room, turning to the band leader.

"If you may," Jack commanded.

With a snap of his fingers the docile sounds of one of Madonna's greatest hits filled the air. Jack walked to the piano, resting his elbows on the instrument and he began to sing:

_"Swaying room as the music starts, strangers making the most of the dark; two by two their bodies become one." \_

He pulled himself onto the piano with a flawlessly fluid motion.

_"I see you through the smoky air; can't you feel the weight of my stare? You're so close but still a world away, what I'm dying to say, is that…" _

Jack's gaze locked on Rachel, who was watching her friend sing as she ignored the visibly jealous Finn.

_"I'm crazy for you, touch me once and you'll know it's true I never wanted anyone like this, it's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss, I'm crazy for you, crazy for you."_

The band switched gears, Jack twisting around on the piano, stretching out across it. When Jack rolled over, he was singing to the assembled members of the glee club.

_"Trying hard to control my heart," _he practically purred in the direction of Santana,_ "I walk over to where you are; eye to eye we need no words at all." _

Jack leapt off of the piano and glided across the room gracefully, confidence in each movement.

He fell to his knees in front of Tina and Brittany, a cocky smirk on his face as he serenaded the two, _"Slowly now we begin to move," _he slithered across the floor, stopping at Santana,_ "every breath I'm deeper into you." _She wretched and looked away as he threw up his hands and Mike and Matt grabbed them and launched him into the waiting arms of Kurt, who looked ready to push him to the floor._ "Soon we two are standing still in time," _he spun around in Kurt's lap, singing in Rachel's direction,_ "if you read my mind, you'll see…"_

Leaping to his feet, his arms extended, Jack was in his element and in all his glory.

_"I'm crazy for you, touch me once and you'll know it's true. I never wanted anyone like this, it's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss, you'll feel it in my kiss because…"_

The sound repeated itself as Jack sang into the finale of the song: _"I'm crazy for you, touch me once and you'll know it's true. I never wanted anyone like this, it's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss…I'm crazy for you…Crazy for you…Crazy for you…Crazy for you…"_

The music began to fade out as he swayed to the music.

_"It's all brand new, I'm crazy for you…And you know it's true, I'm crazy, crazy for you…Its all brand new, I'm crazy for you…And you know it's true, yeah, I'm crazy for you…Crazy for you baby…I'm crazy for you…"_

The song ended and Jack took a bow.

"So, what's the good word?" he asked confidently, cracking his neck and back. That sojourn in the motel was real murder. But, hey, it was a place that had people.

What he got from his cohorts was dead air. Clearly the glee club was either not behind the performance, were still pissed at him for his and Mitchell's wager, or they were still against him for his past…indiscretions against them.

"I liked it," Mr. Schue finally broke the silence. "You took a Madonna classic and made your own."

Jack turned to his teacher and smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Schue. It wasn't all that difficult to be honest. Just a few alterations here and there to suit my suprerior voice and I had a masterpiece."

An annoyed Puck exited the room, soon followed by Kurt, Mercedes, and soon, everyone was gone but Mr. Schue and Rachel.

"As terrifying and undemocratic as the wager you and Mitchell have made," Rachel began, "I would have to say you might have this one in the bag."

"Damn right." Jack was confident.

Sure, Bambi had pulled out a surprising move in the cafeteria, but that didn't mean that

Jack would lose. It was just one of those things, like water being wet.

**0000000000**

The boys, sans Mitchell, had wrapped up their performance of _"What It Feels Like for a Girl"_ when Puck spoke up.

"I am not down with this, I like being a dude."

"They must be playing a fun game of miracles in Heaven today," Jack commented, "because I agree with this guy."

Puck was just a few moments away from flipping Jack off when he spotted Mr. Schue's disapproving eye.

"That's because it's easy to be a dude," Finn showing a shocking amount of clarity.

But, Puck was quickly on him. "Mr. Schue, I think we're going to need a new baritone 'cause Finn would like to become Finnessa."

Mr. Schue, ever the peacekeeper, nipped any fight in the bud. "Finn has a point. I mean, haven't you realized how low morale has been lately?"

"I have," Artie added. "I think the way I've been treating Tina may have sent her over the edge."

He then told the story of how a simple 'hello' to Tina turned into a rant about her own empowerment.

"It's funny," Jack said to Kurt, "Rachel's my friend, but I'm beginning to love Jinx."

"Mr. Schue's right," Finn added. "We've been treating the girls like crap. Not caring about their feelings, not listening, objectifying. That's the right word?"

'Of course he couldn't hold onto a woman. He couldn't even hold onto the right word.'

"That's right."

"As an honorary girl," Kurt cut in, "I have to agree. This team shouldn't work, but it does because we respect each other's talent."

Everyone in the room missed it, but Jack's eyebrows went up on that statement.

"And if want to make it to the next level, we have to start respecting each other as the individuals, really see each other."

'It was pretty ballsy of him to make the challenge. And morale is pretty low…maybe we could…'

"Why were you singing with us, Mr. Schue?"

Mr. Schue bit his lip. "Because, apparently, I need to learn that lesson."

"Fine," Puck said, "but I am not singing this song."

"We don't have to. We just have to make things right with the girls, show them we get how it feels."

'It doesn't have to be just the girls.'

**0000000000**

The next New Directions meeting was a sour one, to say the least. Everyone who meant something to anyone in the group was scattered to four corners of the room. Jack could understand why. Which was why he never flirted with the girls in the club, just made things awkward.

Regardless, there was something he had to do. Not just for the sake of Mitchell, whom he would stomp on any given Sunday, but for the rest of the group as well.

He had to nip the Madonna-Off in the bud. Jack stood up from his chair and cleared his throat.

"In light of the current lack of any strand of positive energy in this club at the moment, I've come to a conclusion that I would now like to present to Bambi," he gestured to Mitchell.

"What?" Mitchell looked terrible. He knew if he lost the bet he would be hated by the club, maybe a couple of members would hate him even more than they already did.

This was not lost on Jack, who merely smirked.

"Draw," Jack said.

Rachel was in utter shock. "Jack Harmon offering a draw?"

"Correct."

"What's the catch?" Mitchell asked quickly. There was always a catch with Jack Harmon.

At least, that was the common belief.

"I realize how hard it is for any of you to accept that this is me being genuine," Jack said. "But, it is. Obviously, nobody is in the mood for something like this. And, it wouldn't be fair to either of us if you voted now."

"No catch?" Finn wondered.

Jack shook his head.

"Deal," Mitchell spoke up.

Jack nodded his head and returned to his seat next to Rachel. Meanwhile, Mr. Schuester went out of the choir room for a quick minute.

"That was very nice of you, Jack," Rachel whispered.

"We're divided enough as it is right now, voting over something would just make it all the worse."

Oh, and you know how some things keep getting worse for some people? Well, this is the part of the story where the ND kids are given theirs. Mr. Schuester walked into the glee club with its newest member: Jesse St. James!

**0000000000**

_Tonight was not a good night for Jack Harmon. He had always been a light sleeper. It was part of the reason why he wished he had a soundproof room, but if he didn't hear everything going on in his house, how would be know if his father was in trouble? _

_So, in hindsight, the fact that he was trying to sleep in a truck stop might appear to have been a really bad idea. The sounds of the trucks had woken him up and, on one occasion, caused him to fall to the floor of his car, the heater for the backseat gabbing him in the lower back. That, coupled with having the twist and turn to find the right sleeping combination, made for a rather miserable night. _

_But, there were still people in the general vicinity. _

**0000000000**

Jack had managed to lose the others by the time he reached his destination. He waited for Mitchell to complete the process of getting his books settled in his bag before he took a breath and shouted:

**"BAMBI!"**

Mitchell almost left the floor, whipping around to confront the balladeer. The rest of his body, of course, didn't bother to tell his legs he wanted to turn and he soon went tumbling to the ground.

"I have to confess," Jack said, "that was very amusing."

Mitchell glared at Jack, standing up and making sure his legs were completely straight for the confrontation he had been waiting for since he challenged Jack to a Madonna-Off.

"Of course you thought it was funny." Mitchell's tone was biting.

'Well deserved.'

"Bambi, I wanted to talk to you." Jack bid Mitchell to follow him.

Mitchell refused to move. Granted, this empowerment thing via the Madonna assignment had sort of blown up in his face, he had learned that standing your ground against one Jack Harmon was the only way to get what you wanted when dealing with him. This was not lost on Jack, who smiled wickedly.

"I see you're not going to make this easy," Jack said. "Alright, I'll give you this one. I was with the guys and we were discussing something important. About making amends with the people we've wronged. They've pissed off the girls and, I must confess, that I may have overstepped my bounds a couple of weeks ago."

He didn't have to elaborate for Mitchell to understand what he was talking about.

"And I wanted to say that-" How could he apologize without saying the words? "-that you'll never have to worry about it again."

"Why apologize now?"

"It wasn't an apology," A big honking lie, "it was more of an assurance. I confess that you and the Pregnoid would make a rather good couple." He raised his finger to silence Mitchell. "But, I also mention this because of one other thing. You stood up to me."

Mitchell's eyes conveyed a sense of curiosity.

"I'm still not sure what place she has in show choir, but Madonna gave a castrated lamb back his testes. And big brass ones at that."

"For all the good it did me," Mitchell said under his breath. Though it was more a soto voce under his breath as Jack heard every word.

"Doing something brave and brazen can sometimes backfire," Jack said with a shrug. "You shouldn't worry about that."

With that Jack turned on his heel and moved down the hall, a look of satisfaction on his face. Maybe it hadn't helped out Mitchell, but it had allowed Jack to get something off of his chest.

Now, he had to take care of one last thing…

**0000000000**

Jesse was standing in the hallway, searching for Rachel.

"Looking for the sophomore lockers?" Jack appeared behind the curly-haired performer.

"Yeah," Jesse said, clutching his chest.

"Sorry about that," Jack said.

"You snuck up on me."

"I'm very good at that." Jack returned to the original topic. "I know where they are." He extended his hand. "Jack Harmon, by the way."

"I know who you are" Jesse said, shaking the blonde balladeer's hand. "You're kind of hard to miss in glee. And I've seen some of your work on the internet."

"Flattered." He really was. "But, um, I want to talk to you about something important. Well, someone important."

Jesse raised an eyebrow as Jack motioned him to follow.

"You're dating my friend," Jack explained, leading Jesse down the hallway. "Rachel is not just my friend; she's my best friend and, quite honestly, my only friend."

"I respect that," Jesse said. "I know I may have been monopolizing her time…"

"I have no problem with her dating you," Jack said. "But, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. My only goals in this sphere of time are that everything that happens is for the betterment of the glee club and, and this is very important, to make sure she's happy."

Jack turned in on Jesse, almost pinning the senior against one of the closed classroom doors.

"Keep that in mind if you're playing this club or playing her," he said in a threatening whisper. "Because if you're doing either one, I will shave off all that pretty hair of yours and use your bald head as target practice with my paintball gun." Jesse's eyes widened at this turn of events. "Are we solid?" Jack stepped back and extended his hand.

"Can't say you've given me much choice," Jesse was kind of intimidated, but he tried not to show it. Jack seemed to be as overly dramatic as both Rachel and himself. Best to let him live in his little fantasy world.

He extended his hand to Jack.

"Splendid," Jack said. "Now, let's go find Rachel."

**0000000000**

When they did find Rachel, she was talking to Finn. About what was anybody's guess, but Jesse took this as the opportunity to slide up behind her and challenge Finn to a sing-off in the parking lot.

What happened next surprised even Jack Harmon. Finn extended his hand to Jesse and welcomed him to the group.

Jack walked over to the couple. "I'm not sure what to make of that," he said. "But, I'm on your side because you're dating my friend."

Rachel smiled. Her boyfriend was a part of her glee club and he had hit it off with her best friend. And she didn't have to work as an intermediary. Things were starting to look up.

**0000000000**

Rachel was alone on a darkened stage, stepping into the dim spotlight.

_"Life is a mystery,"_ she sang, _"everyone must stand alone. I hear you call my name and it feels like home…"_

The spotlight came up and the rest of the New Directions appeared, singing in unison.

_**"When you call my name, it's like a little prayer. I'm down on my knees," **_they spun to the ground on their knees, before popping back to their feet in concert,_** "I wanna take you there. In the midnight hour, I can feel your power, just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there."**_

They split off again, this time letting Finn stand in center.

_"I hear your voice,"_ he sang, _"it's like an angel sighing."_

At the corner of stage, Kurt took his cue,** "**I have no choice; I hear your voice, feels like flying."

He gave Mercedes a peck on the cheek as she took her solo.

_"__I close my eyes, oh God, I think I'm falling. Out of the sky, I close my eyes; let the choir sing, Oohhhhh…" _

Jack turned to the center of the top row, signaling for the curtains on the stage to come up. When they were raised, a church choir emerged from the shadows, joining in with the glee.

_**"When you call my name, it's like a little prayer. I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there. In the midnight hour, I can feel your power, just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there."**_

Jack leapt to front of the line, the choir singing as he joined with his friend, who were dancing and harmonizing with the choir.

_**"**__**Just like a prayer, I'll take you there. It's like a dream to me…**__**"**_

The movements of the New Directions were a little off, but they were loose and, as much as it pained Jack to agree with Finn, the tall co-captain had been right. They were best when they were loose. The group may not have been popping on all cylinders, but they were on their way back.

_**"Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there. Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery. Just like a dream, you are not what you seem. Just like a prayer, no choice your voice can take me there!"**_

And maybe, that was something Jack could take to heart.

**0000000000**

Jack was about to lie down on the couch. He was tired, too tired to even want to be around people. Who knew doing the right thing could be so taxing? Had he'd known, he would've crushed Bambi and been a total ass to everyone so he would have some energy by the time the day was over.

Still, the glee club was back to working together…Well, there were still a few bugs in system, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. Jack, much to his own, surprise actually had faith that one of the groups' many love triangles would work itself out without his interference.

He was about to lie down when he heard a knock on his door.

"Odd," he thought aloud.

Reaching underneath the couch, he produced a .357 Magnum his father always had for safe keeping, and walked toward the door.

Looking through the peephole, he saw something that surprised. It was Rachel and Jesse, bearing a cavalcade of musical DVDs and bootlegs of other shows that had yet to be made into movies.

He opened the door.

"I have to say I wasn't expecting you guys here," Jack said.

"Well," Rachel said, pushing past her friend, "it's come to my attention that, in the throes of my unending bliss," Jesse smiled at that one, "I may have forgotten one of the most important people in my life."

Jack, who had hid the gun behind the door, slipped the hammer back onto the pin and turned on the safety.

"And that would be?" he asked coyly.

Rachel arched an eyebrow at Jack. "You. Jesse suggested that there was a great way to spend time with the both of you."

"We come bearing the musicals of Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly. And few surprises," Jesse said from the doorway. "So long as you're not too busy this evening."

Jack looked at Jesse and then to Rachel.

"I don't have anything planned," he said.

And he hadn't. Not to mention, he didn't have to beg and plead for companionship after all. His pride was saved again.

Rachel let out a celebratory giggle, throwing her arms around Jack before grabbing Jesse's hand and leading him into Jack's living room.

"What's first on the docket?" Jack asked, slipping the gun into a nearby alcove in the wall. You know, that secret spot in everyone's house where you hid weapons? That alcove.

"I was thinking, maybe," Rachel was at her animated best, "How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying." She turned to Jesse. "And then, Jesse has a copy of Spring Awakenings that he, himself, recorded when he went to see the show live."

"I was almost busted," Jesse said, "but it was worth every moment of heart-stopping terror."

Jack took a seat next to the couple as Rachel turned on the television and the movie began.

**0000000000**

**A/N: Looks like the story isn't dead. I'm hoping to do more work on it in the coming weeks. I've been pushing myself to get started because I want to get to the second and third seasons before the year is up. **

**Though, I must confess, this was not what I truly had in mind when I started this chapter. Hopefully, it's as good as the previous ones because I'm not so sure. **

**Regardless, it's not up to me to decide. It's up to you, the readers to give me the word on the chapter's worth. I can't wait to see what you guys thought.**

**Signed,  
****Soulless Warlock **


	11. Home

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot to this story and my OCs. The rest all belongs to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, the various songwriters, and to the writers of any joke that may not be mine.**

**0000000000**

**Author's Note: This chapter's flashbacks are going to be introduced in a different way this time around. It's a one-time thing until another chapter requires year breaks.**

**00000 1991 00000**

_Kristopher stood in his office, watching as his ex-wife stepped into her car and drove away from the home they had shared for over 15 years. He was not sure how to take this situation. On one hand, he was glad to see her go; she had been a real pain in his ass. And, on the other hand, he had lost her, and Harmons never lost at all. _

_But, there was something else bothering him. Something she had said before she left. _

**"I don't even know why I married you; you are completely incapable of loving anyone that isn't you."**

_Kristopher turned from the window and took a seat. He wasn't sure if that was true. He knew he was capable of loving others. Right? He had loved her, right? _

_He pushed the idea to the back of his mind and pulled out a finance report, getting back to his life's natural order. It wouldn't be long before he forgot about her and everything she represented. _

**00000 2010 00000**

Jack stormed into the foyer of the Harmon mansion.

"I cannot believe this!" he thundered.

"Something wrong?" Kristopher asked from the living room.

"What clued you in?" Jack's comeback was drier than George Bernard Shaw.

His father's comeback was as dry as Oscar Wilde's, "Father's intuition."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Remind me again why I look to you for understanding?"

"Cause no one puts up with your crap like I do."

"It could be that."

Kristopher placed his papers on the couch and patted the empty seat.

"Out with it," Kristopher said. "Dr. Latham said it's better if you talk and not bottle it up."

"Sue Sylvester needs to be eliminated." Jack dropped into the empty seat. "Does Henderson still do wet work?"

"You're not getting your bodyguard to kill a cheerleading coach."

"Why?"

Kristopher laughed. "You know, you sound so much like I used to."

"You always say that and, yet, I never get the whole story."

"Do you have the time to hear a 61 year story?"

"I retract my previous comment. Not because I'm not curious, but if your stories are anything like your contracts, I'd be here forever."

Kristopher laughed. "Calm now?"

"A little," Jack leaned back, "I'm pissed cause she just tossed us out of the auditorium because, apparently, her cheerleading devils will freeze in the winter air."

"It is winter," Kristopher had returned to his paperwork, "And, last time I checked, humans don't have the endurance of a cow or bear in terms of the winter."

"Can we stick to the subject?" Jack asked. "Anyways, she locks us out and says that she needs it for the Cheerios as if the gym isn't a better choice for them. And, knowing her like I think I do, she won't let us in until after Regionals. By then, we'll have lost and rehearsing in the auditorium will be a moot point at best."

"That sounds like trouble you should take to Figgins."

"Dad, you've met Figgins. He makes an aggressive move, he'll break his mangina." Jack shook his head defiantly. "No, I just need some leverage to get the auditorium back. Good, old-fashioned blackmail." He stopped to think. "How do you blackmail a woman who wears tracksuits, bears a striking resemblance to Ellen DeGeneres on cocaine, and is just as effective with blackmail as you are?"

Guess the safety report wasn't gonna get done today. Oh, well, the janitors and the staff knew what chemicals were nonflammable and inflammable.

Setting down the papers, Kristopher looked at his son. "May I play devil's advocate?"

"He's here?" Jack's head darted around the room.

"Figuratively," Kristopher corrected. "Why not just accept things how they are?"

"Aliens finally got to him," Jack muttered to himself.

Kristopher groaned. "What I mean is that you know you can't always get what you want, right?"

"I know," Jack added.

"Maybe this is one of those things," Kristopher said. "Also, I don't want you arrested for solicitation of murder. Would be a bigger stain on the family name than I could handle."

Jack arched an eyebrow. "Even with Aunt Amelia on the family tree?"

Kristopher analyzed the comment. "Surprisingly, yes." He cleared his throat. "Fact, Sue has the auditorium booked, correct?"

"Correct."

"And the auditorium is owned by the school, correct?"

"Correct."

"Then their hands are tied, Tigger."

Jack groaned at his much-hated childhood nickname.

"So, that means…"

"Accept things for what they are," Jack replied, standing up and moving toward the foyer, stopping at the entrance. "Question, when you were my age, would you have let that stop you?"

"Hell, no," Kristopher answered. "I wouldn't have let it stop me at 44."

"What happened?"

"I found a reason to be responsible," he said with a wink.

**00000 1991 00000**

_Kristopher, along with the rest of the Harmon family, sat in the waiting room of Lima General. It had been over seven hours since his sister, Karen, had been wheeled into the delivery room and there was still no word. _

_He stretched his legs out and rested his head on the uncomfortable chairs. He normally didn't attend these sorts of things – It just wasn't his thing, as much as he loved his family – but when a woman goes into labor in your kitchen, you're sort of behooved to make sure she's okay._

**"Seriously,"** _a tiny voice declared,_ **"how long does this take?"**

_ Bianca Munson, Karen's daughter with her fourth husband, had finally made her feelings known. Despite being five, she was just a hairsbreadth away from turning into the biggest diva on the planet. _

**"These things take time,"** _Juliet, Kristopher's younger sister, stated._ **"You took almost two days to be born."**

**"But, it was totally worth it."**

_Kristopher rolled his eyes, the little girl didn't seem to understand what was going on. It was then, Weston Montgomery, Karen's sixth and seventh husband, entered the room, pulling down his face mask. _

**"It's a boy."**

_Kristopher laughed and shook his brother-in-law's hand. _**"Can we see him?" **

**"Of course. Though, Karen's not one for conversation at the moment."**

**"She hardly ever is," **_Juliet snarked._

_Weston ushered the adults and his stepdaughter into the hallway, but not before pulling Kristopher to the side. _

**"I wanted to thank you for getting here."**

**"It's no problem. She's my baby sister. I may not always like her choices, but I'm gonna watch out for her and her kids."**

**"Which is why Karen and I want you to be the baby's godfather."**

_Kristopher was taken aback. He had four nephews and two nieces and none of their parents had asked him to be a godparent. _

**"Of course I will."**

_Weston smiled and led Kristopher to the room where they saw a small baby boy being cleaned up by the nurses. Kristopher looked at his godson and smiled. So much for destroying everything he touched. He had actually played a small part in bringing a new life into the world. _

**00000 2010 00000**

It seemed that Mr. William Schuester had found his New Directions a new home. But, it wasn't anything they were expecting…

"A roller rink?"

Jack was reasonably sure he was hearing things.

Santana had something to say, "Weren't those outlawed in, like, 1981 for being totally lame?"

"Come on guys, where's your sense of adventure?" Mr. Schue asked, "I think this is a great opportunity for us to have some fun."

"Fun?" Jack questioned the very idea, it flew in the face of proper logic, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's virtually impossible to have fun at a roller rink."

Mr. Schuester wanted to change their opinions, "Hear me out; We're not getting the auditorium back right away, so why not just make the most of it? Why not relieve some of the stress of Regionals with just losing yourselves at the rink for a couple hours here and there?"

"I lost myself in the woods for a couple hours one time," Brittany said, "It wasn't fun until the animals started talking to me."

Jack opened his mouth to say something but found himself unable to retort. Guess it was his turn this week.

"The space is great, plenty of room," Mr. Schuester continued explaining the rink, "And April is giving it to us to practice in for free."

"I'm with Mr. Schue," Mitchell stood up, seeing this as a good idea, "We might as well make the most of it, right?"

"Are you insane?" Jack asked, then looked to the rest, "Clearly, he's insane."

A roller rink is a bad idea, most definitely a bad idea.

**00000 1992 00000**

_Kristopher was surprised when he decided to accept his brother's invitation to spend Christmas with his family. He loved his nieces and nephews, but children were usually not something he liked spending time around. That was why he always liked being an uncle; he could give them back whenever they got on his nerves. _

_However, he would be there the whole holiday, meaning that he couldn't escape them. _

**"Uncle Kris,"** **Carl called out, getting the older man's attention.**

**"What's up, buddy?" **

**"Bad news." **

_Kristopher rolled his eyes; his nephew always had a tendency to blow things out of proportion. He was also a real stickler for the roles, which was why his father, Edward, and his grandfather, Robert, were pushing him as far away from the family business as much as possible. _

_Playing with his shot glass, Kristopher cavalierly asked,_ **"And that would be what?"**

**"Uncle Roger threw his back out." **

**"Are you kidding me? He's younger than me, how the hell did he pull that off?"**

**"He was playing with Taylor and Vanessa and they wanted a piggyback ride,"** _Carl stated._

**"I never seen two children ask for so many piggyback rides,"** _Kristopher mused._

**"They say it's for science, but I say bull,"** _Carl said._

**"I guess that means Santa's not visiting tonight,"** _Kristopher got up from his chair._

**"Well…"** _Carl stopped himself mid-word._

**"Hell, no,"** _Kristopher growled._ **"I am not Santa Claus."**

**"You have the right body type." **

**"I'm gonna ignore that one,"** _Kristopher countered._ **"Besides, we would be lying to children. Is that really the right thing to do?"**

**"Desperate times, Uncle Kris"** _Carl said, bolting for the closet._ **"Do you really want to be the one to tell those kids that Santa isn't coming?"**

_Considering that his nieces and nephews once torched a Santa decoration that spread to his car the last time Santa hadn't shown up, he was going to say no._

**"After this, I'm going on a diet,"** _he announced._ **"You won't have Kristopher Harmon to stuff in a Santa suit anymore."**

**00000 2010 00000**

Jack had three reasons to hate roller rinks. Number one: They were loud and usually played terrible music. Number two: They always had a gaudy disco ball and, while he was aware that it was a state law to have one in any roller rink, didn't mean he had to like it. And, finally, number three: He didn't know how to skate.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, there was one thing even the great Jack Harmon could not do. It was a traumatic and horrible story that he didn't dare mention. It was best left in the past.

So, there he was, in a pair of roller skates that had been worn by God knows how many weirdoes and fruitcakes and hanging onto the side like a pathetic

"Well, hey there, Handsome," the helium-powered voice of April Rhodes called out to Jack, "I don't remember seeing you with Will's little group."

"Joined up after you left," Jack said, his feet sliding out from under him.

He grabbed the wall again and held on for dear life.

"What'cha doing?" she asked.

"Trying my best to hang on and create the illusion that I'm moving around."

"Why not just skate or not?"

"To answer that question, one: I don't know to skate, and two: I don't want them," he pointed out to the glee club members, "knowing that."

"Don't know how to skate? Were you ever a child?"

"Yes, I was," Great, now, even strangers thought he was hatched, "And I don't because I've have bad experiences with roller rinks. It's traumatic, horrible story. No need to mention it."

"Well, you did, might as well spill."

Jack looked at the older blonde and pursed his lips. She seemed like the type to tell the next person at the bar his story, but, with the exception of Puck, very few members of the glee club were bar hoppers.

"Okay," he said, floating into a flashback.

**00000 2005 00000**

**"Don't worry, buddy,"** _Kristopher Harmon said to his 11-year old son, leading him out onto rink floor,_ **"I'm not gonna let you fall."**

_Jack was still reticent about stepping onto the rink floor. He had a couple of reasons to hate roller rinks. Number one: They were loud and usually played terrible music, and number two: They always had a gaudy disco ball and, while he was aware that it was a state law to have one in any roller rink, didn't mean he had to like it._

_Still, if his dad thought it was a good idea, who was he to argue? _

_Jack slowly rolled toward his father, who took his hand as soon as they were in arms' length, and they began to move around the rink floor. _

**"See, not that bad,"** _Kristopher said._

**"No,"** _Jack said._

**"Okay,"** _Kristopher wanted to try for something else,_ **"now for the turn."**

**"The what?" **

_And that was when it happened, Jack's legs locked up and tumbled backwards, landing on his backside. While this hurt, it was nothing compared to what happened next when his 6'2, 240 pound father fell backwards with him, his leg landing on top of his smaller son's. _

_And that, ladies and gents, is how Jack Harmon experienced the third most humiliating moment in his life. _

**00000 2010 00000**

April wasn't sure if she should laugh or feel sorry for this kid.

"Now, if you don't mind," Jack declared, "I must continue impersonating Big Bird and keep my dignity…what remains of it, anyways."

"I don't think so," April said.

"Excuse me?"

"No one comes onto the floor of my rink and doesn't skate," April dodged a passerby and moved in closer to Jack, "I can even show you."

This made Jack laugh. "I'm sorry, but if –"

The blonde-haired tenor never finished that sentence as April grabbed him with surprising strength and pulled him onto the floor, the wheels of his skates almost leaving the ground.

But, he remained vertical.

"You strike me as a Springsteen type," April pulled out a microphone and tossed it to Jack before pulling out one of her own, "Can I a _Long Walk Home_?"

The deejay hit the appropriate button and the music began to play.

"Just focus on me and follow along," instructed April as she began to move across the floor.

_ "Last night I stood at your doorstep," _she began to sing,_ "trying to figure out what went wrong." _She glided around the floor with wonderful grace, her concentration never breaking._ "You just slipped something into my palm and you were gone." _

So, if an old drunk could pull it off, Jack freaking Harmon could do it and do it better.

He began to sing, copying her movements, _"I could smell the same deep green of summer 'bove me the same night sky was glowin', in the distance I could see the town where I was born." _

He began to move with a little more confidence as they rolled around the people, Jack's focus never leaving April.

_**"****It's gonna be a long walk home, hey pretty darling, don't wait up for me, gonna be a long walk home…A long walk home…"**_

April decided it was time to zig-zag, give the number a little more kick.

_"Here everybody has a neighbor," _she vanished from sight,_ "everybody has a friend," _she soon reappeared in Jack's sight, saving him from tumbling forward,_ "everybody has a reason to begin again."_

April gave Jack a shove forward, causing him to lose his focus, but, somehow, he stayed vertical.

'Just focus on the song,' he told himself before singing, _"My father said 'Son, we're lucky in this town, it's a beautiful place to be born. It just wraps its arms around you, nobody crowds you, and nobody goes it alone'." _

April reappeared again and added, _"'Your flag flyin' over the courthouse means certain things are set in stone, who we are, what we'll do and what we won't'."_

She grabbed his hand and held him steady, not unlike the way a mother would steady her child.

_**"It's gonna be a long walk home, Hey pretty darling, don't wait up for me, gonna be a long walk home."**_

They spun around the floor and finally came to a stop at the center, Jack now confident enough to move on his own.

_**"Hey, pretty darling, don't wait up for me…Gonna be a long walk home…It's gonna be a long walk home…It's gonna be a long walk home…"**_

**00000 1992 00000**

_Kristopher struggled to keep himself, his Santa hat and the bag steady as he scaled a ladder at the back of Roger's house. This was the last damn time he'd ever climb a ladder if he had any say in the matter. _

_Still, it would be worth it to see the faces of his nieces and nephews when he made his entrance. He stepped onto the roof and moved toward the chimney. He wasn't sure why he felt this way, but was starting to wonder if he was missing something in his life. He had a family, but lived alone, was successful, but had no one to share this success with, and he had a big house but shared it with no one. _

_ As he walked over to the chimney, specially made this sort of event, he thought back to the day his godson, Jared, was born. That had been a great day. A day he would not soon forget. He still didn't understand how his sister could have two children she barely paid any attention to and he didn't - he didn't have any children. _

_ Kristopher mounted the chimney and smiled to himself. Maybe -_

**00000 2010 00000**

"Scratch my previous idea," Jack said the next day at breakfast. "I'm not killing Sylvester."

"Good to hear. Mind if I ask what your new idea is?"

"I'm going to keep that one under my hat," Jack said, standing up with a new spring in his step. "But, if money goes missing from one of the offshore accounts, don't panic."

"I'm not going to be reading about this in papers later on tonight, am I?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Please," he said. "Like we'd ever let anything in the papers."

Kristopher laughed to himself, watching his son leave the room before he returned to his paper.

**00000 1993 00000**

_Kristopher had finally made the decision that he knew would change his life forever: He was going to become a father. Now, he wasn't going to do it like his brothers and sisters did it, get remarried and get the woman pregnant, no, he didn't have the time for that. He was going to do it via surrogacy. _

_Now, all he needed was the right surrogate. So far, every single one of his candidates failed in some category or another._

_That was until he got to the final selection on his list, she had a lot of problems but was in desperate need of money so she and her boyfriend. If this was how far she would go to actually make money, that said a lot about her ability to let go. Maybe she was the right one. _

**"Miss Briggs,"** _Kristopher said into his intercom,_ **"send the next applicant in."**

**"Yes sir, Mr. Harmon,"** _the secretary said. _

**00000 2010 00000**

After nearly a week inside of Rinky Dinks, Jack had to admit it wasn't half bad, but he still longed to return to the auditorium. And that is what made him decide that he had to take drastic actions.

No, he wasn't going to kill Sue Sylvester. It was too messy and he couldn't accept a blood trail leading to his front door. He was going to do things the old fashioned way: He was gonna buy the auditorium.

Granted, it had never been done before, but he had a feeling that it was something that needed to be done. He remembered Sue saying that you have to do whatever it takes to win and he was going to win.

No sooner had he rounded the corner, a check in his hand did he see April and Figgins exiting his office, shaking hands. The Indian man and the boozy blonde exchanged faux-pleasantries before she walked down the hall and into the music room. He followed her into the music room where he heard the announcement.

"I bought the auditorium! It's now called the April Rhodes Civic Pavalion."

Jack looked at his jacket, the check hanging out and smirked as he removed it, folded it and placed it back in his pocket. Sometimes, even boozehounds can be angels.

**00000 1994 00000**

_Kristopher walked into the nursery, the light from the moon shining through the room and into his son's crib. He stood over the sleeping baby, making sure the infant's breathing was level. He thought it odd that the boy didn't seem to wake up in the middle of the night as most three-week-olds would. _

_Maybe there was something wrong. Kristopher reached over to the phone before a small cry shook him out of his worst-case scenario line of thinking. _

_He collected the baby from his crib and checked to see if he needed his diaper changed. That wasn't it. Maybe he was hungry. Had he fed him enough before putting him to bed? Was he already screwing up? _

_To be honest, he wasn't sure what the hell was wrong with him. He hadn't been like this before Jack was born. He had been as cool as a cucumber and twice as smooth. Now, look at him. _

_Kristopher Harmon was never a man ruled by insecurity or fear, but that was in business or when he sang at the family reunions. This, however, was something completely different than what he was thinking about. This was a child. This was __**his**__ child. _

_His child? It was still something he had a hard time processing. To have this little human dependent on him scared the living hell out of him_.

_He took a seat, the baby still in his arms, his finger gliding across the baby's forehead. Kristopher jumped when he felt something grab his finger. He looked down to see Jack hanging on to his finger, his bright blue eyes locked on him. _

_The baby gurgled and seemed to tilt his head to the side, as if studying his father. Kristopher smiled at the sound of his son was making before alternating his right arm to his left arm. _

_Much to his surprise, the actions of his son made him forget about what he was thinking about earlier. How did this little guy have that kind of power? Maybe this really was meant to be. _

_**"Suddenly, you're here,"**__ he began to sing under his breath, __**"suddenly, it starts; can two anxious hearts beat as one?"**_

_Kristopher looked down at his son, the baby squirming in his arms, almost as if he wanted to hear more. _

_**"Yesterday, I was alone,"**__ Kristopher continued, __**"today, you are beside me. Something, still unclear, something not yet here has begun."**_

_Kristopher stood up, holding Jack a little closer to his face. _

_**"Suddenly, the world seems a different place,"**__ he sang to baby, who reached out to grab at his beard,_ _**"somehow, full of grace, full of light. How was I to know that so much hope was held inside me? What is past is gone now we journey on through the night."**_

_Kristopher walked down the hall of the now almost-illuminated mansion, unsure of how to take the new light. He wondered if he was actually living in the real world because it didn't seem real. _

_**"How was I to know, at last, that happiness can come so fast?"**__ he asked Jack, who was closing his eyes, slipping away into dreamland,_ _**"Trusting me the way you do, I'm so afraid of failing you."**_

_He looked down at Jack again, placing him in the bassinet, thinking about his ex-wife's words. _

_**"Just a child who cannot know that sadness follows where I go,"**_ _he caressed his son's cheek, quickly pulling back when he realized that he had jostled him from his sleep, __**"There are shadows everywhere and memories I cannot share."**_

_He sat down next to the basinet, the moonlight shining into the room. _

_**"Nevermore alone, nevermore apart,"**__ he promised his sleeping child, __**"you have warmed my heart like the sun. You have brought the gift of life and love so long denied me."**_

_His lips turned up onto a smile, standing up and exiting the room._

_**"Suddenly, I see what I could not see, something, suddenly, has begun."**_

_ He shut the door, knowing that this was meant to be_.

**00000 2010 00000**

"Miss Rhodes," Jack shouted as April left the auditorium for what she hoped was the final time.

April turned and saw the tall blonde boy she recognized from the roller rink.

"Hey there, Handsome," she said.

"I just wanted to say that the glee club really appreciates your contributions."

"Ah," April's response was, as expected, dismissive, "it was nothing, really. So, are you ever gonna head back to Rinky Dinks?"

"Another one of your contributions."

"You're welcome, by the way."

"For what?"

"Helping you shake that fear of falling on your ass," April clarified.

"I never said thank you."

"Didn't have to. I can tell you're one of those stuff-shirts who doesn't know how to thank somebody. So, I'll just take the thanks as an inference. See you around."

She turned and began to walk away, leaving Jack slightly flabbergasted at how this woman talked to him. Though he was more flabbergasted by how much it reminded him of his grandmother.

**00000 2010 00000**

April looked out on the noisy surroundings of Rinky Dinks, not sure if she should have herself another drink. No, best to stay sober, she had a lot of driving to do and her boobs were only gonna stay perky for so many years, so she couldn't use her cleavage as a weapon as much anymore.

"I would've thought you'd have left by now," she heard a familiar voice call out to her.

She turned and saw a man she hadn't seen in years.

"Kristopher Harmon," she smiled, "is that really you?"

"April Rhodes," the older man said, stepping out of the shadows. "It's been too long. Or not long enough. I can't decide."

"Neither can I," the tiny blonde's tone was acidic.

"You look good."

"How did you find me?"

"_My_ son told me," he said with quiet authority

April glared at the man who had changed her life nearly 17 years ago.

**00000 1994 00000**

_April Rhodes was exhausted, her hair was messed up, her makeup was smudged and her loins felt like they were ready to explode. You might actually think she had had fun, but, instead, she was lying in hospital bed, a baby lying in a basinet next to the bed and an imposing figure standing over her with a piece of paper in one hand and the check in the other._

**"You've fulfilled your end of the bargain, I'm fulfilling mine,"** _Kristopher said._

_April weakly signed the papers and took the check as Kristopher walked over to the basinet and gathered his son._

**"Do you want to see him?"** _he asked._

**"No,"** _April replied._

_Kristopher nodded, silently understanding what she was telling him. He picked up the diaper bag and exited the hospital room, shutting the door on one chapter of his life before moving on to the next one._

**00000 2010 00000**

"So, he's happy?" April asked.

Surprisingly, Kristopher and April were sitting at the bar, talking peaceably.

"As much as he can be," Kristopher answered. "I know you're leaving town. So, I wanted to say thank you for not trying to talk to him."

"Well, technically, I did," she had, "but I didn't know it was him."

"Do you regret anything?"

"About leaving him with you?" she asked. "No. I can't. He's obviously in a good place and I couldn't give that to him. I probably would've disappeared. I'm a leaf, you're a tree."

Her eyes widened at those words.

"You know what I wanna do?" she asked almost rhetorically. "I wanna sing one more time on this floor."

Kristopher waved her toward it.

"Oh no, Stud," she grabbed his arm, "you're singing with me."

Kristopher laughed as she dragged him into the rink floor and turned on the microphones.

"Hey, everybody," the skaters all turned their attention to her, "I wanna introduce y'all to someone important. This is Kristopher Harmon."

Kristopher waved to the people.

"A couple of years ago, I did him a big favor and then he did one for me. And I wanted to drag him up here for a little duet."

She turned to the deejay and gave him the signal.

"This is an oldie, but goodie from a show I used to love," she explained. "Sing along, Stud."

The music possessed a certain country twag to it and April raised the microphone to her lips and she began to sing, _"Some of us are trees, rooted in the ground. Some of us are leaves that the breeze blows all around." _She turned to Kristopher and smiled at him. _"I've always been a leaf, traveling fast and free. But, sometimes, how I've wished I were meant to be a tree." _

_"I was born an oak," _Kristopher sang in his deep baritone,_ "the mightiest of trees. But, I envied every leaf floating gently on the breeze. And then a leaf explained…" _

_"We're really just the same."_

_**"We share a single life, though we go by different names," **_they two chorused together._** "So, if the wind's too strong and we can't stay together, I hope you won't forget you're part of me forever. Forever!"**_

**0000000000**

**A/N 2: Surprise, everyone! I bet you thought this story was dead and buried. Well, it's not and I'm hoping to finish before Season Five begins. I've been lollygagging for too long and I want to finish.**

**As for this chapter, I originally intended for it to feature more elements of the episode but, instead, it grew into a life of it's own, separate from the canon tale. And it gives you some idea of how Jack came along and what spurred Kristopher to become a father.**

**It's different. Not my best and not my worst. It's so-so, in my opinion. Still, I'll let you guys be the judges.**

**Signed**  
**Soulless Warlock**


End file.
